At Your Assistance
by folkhands
Summary: Miss Fairchild is Jace Wayland's latest in a long string of personal assistants. When the rest of the gang work at the company, won't there be a lot of predicaments? Possibly tense, lustful predicaments. AH/AU/Slightly OOC/Lemonade. COMPLETE.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Monday 22nd November_

"Clarissa Fairchild," the doorman said, nodding at me as he ushered me inside the front doors. It seemed odd, somehow, that he knew my name. I hadn't thought that becoming Jace Wayland's newest in a long line of assistants would actually be so important that my name be spread to even the doorman.

"Ms. Fairchild," the front desk lady said to me. Her nametag said that she was a Miss Aline Penhallow.

I smiled earnestly, "That's me," I told her, and she passed me my building pass with an odd glint in her eyes. "Thanks Miss Penhallow," I said, turning to make my way to the elevators when Aline-front-desk-lady called my name.

"Yes?" I said, making my way back over, hitching my bag up over my shoulder.

"Just so you know," she said with a smug smile. "Jace – err, I mean, Mr. Wayland is taken."

"O-kay." I replied, wondering why this was at all important.

And as if Aline-front-desk-lady would read minds, she said, "You'll understand soon enough."

_Right,_ I told myself. _That one's crazy._

**JxC**

I had only spoken with Mr. Wayland once, on the phone for that matter, before my first day. And I had never _seen_ him before – I would have Googled him, but my apartment didn't have internet yet.

When the elevator doors opened on the 39th floor, I stepped out, greeted by an intoxicating amount of cologne, men's cologne.

If Mr. Wayland smelt like this every day, Aline-front-desk-lady could keep him. I wasn't a fan of that much cologne.

Which _totally_ explain why I was now working on the business end of the Wayland Perfume and Colognery, as my mother, Jocelyn, had dubbed it.

I rolled my eyes and tried not to gag as a thin man with hair dark walked me to Mr. Wayland's office. He looked familiar, but I couldn't work out why for the life of me.

"Clarissa Fairchild," he said, holding out his hand to shake. "I'm Simon –"

"_Lewis!_ How did I _not_ see it? Clary," I said, trying to make him remember me when he gave me the strangest look I've ever seen. "Clary Morgenstern?"

His eyes widened and his grin lit up his entire face – he was cute when he smiled.

"Karma," he said, almost to himself.

"What? You're a Buddhist now?" I joked.

"Somethin' like that. Welcome to the building, Miss Fairchild."

**JxC**

"So Miss Fairchild, I would suppose that you are wondering why I requested you as my assistant." I just nodded politely. "Firstly, I have heard great things about you – you were suggested to me, so to speak. Second is that I owe your mother and father this at least. And thirdly because you would be a good model for a campaign I have coming up – you have the perfect image for what I'm looking for."

I had so many questions, but I kept them in my heart. "Thank you for hiring me, Mr. Wayland."

"Oh, Miss Fairchild," he smiled. "Well, I suppose we could get you settled in now." He pressed a button on his phone and spoke to it, "Lewis, can you please ready Miss Fairchild's desk."

"Yes, Mr. Wayland."

Jace Wayland turned his attention back to me after turning the phone off. "Lewis – Mr. Simon Lewis. He's just a temp. Totally useless sometimes; he needs to get his act together if he wants a permanent job here."

I had known what Aline had meant the minute I saw him. Jace Wayland was the epitome of handsome, with what looked like it would be an amazing body underneath his suit.

_What I'd give to get into those pants._

_Oh my God._

_ Get a fucking grip, Clary!_

His hair was just a little too long; blond curly locks constantly falling into his almost-golden eyes. Jace Wayland was like a spider, I decided, women were like flies, and they were his prey. It wouldn't be hard to fall into his web.

"Miss Fairchild," Jace Wayland said, breaking my reverie, his tone almost scolding. "I know that I am sexy, but that doesn't mean you can stare every moment we're together – which will probably be a lot, by the way. There is a staring quota, for all women, Miss Fairchild."

_Just freaking great._

_ He was _hot. And _he knew it._

__**Clarissa Fairchild has just been employed under the company's head, Jace Wayland. Will Wayland's arrogance shine through at work? Can Clary get past the arrogance and sometimes snarky remarks to the man behind the façade? AH/AU**

**DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Cassandra Clare - the plot however is mine.**

_Hi! Authors notes at the end - this is new for me, but I decided that it would be nicer of me to let you just get on to the story and then I can talk to you later and convince you to review. (I know, tactical, huh?) Anyway, this is going to be multiple chapter. However, I cannot guarantee that I will update regularly at all. In fact, I probably won't. Ever. I've half written the first chapter, so that may be up soon. But I really don't know how many chapters there will be or where this is going to go - other than the obvious they-get-together-and-live-happily-ever-after. Anyway! Reviews are appreciated, ConCrit too :)._

_~Maisy :) x_**  
**


	2. Chapter ONE

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"Miss Fairchild," Jace Wayland said, breaking her reverie, his tone almost scolding. "I know that I am sexy, but that doesn't mean you can stare every moment we're together – which will probably be a lot, by the way. There is a staring quota, for all women, Miss Fairchild."

_Just freaking great._

_He was _hot. And _he knew it._

**JxC**

**Chapter ONE**

_Monday 22nd November _**  
**

I could only hope that Jace Wayland would not be cruel.

"Miss Fairchild," I heard through the phone on my desk.

I stood and smoothed my skirt down, walking over to the thick wooden doors that led to his office.

_My office, _he'd told me,_ is soundproof, _and he'd winked, _if you know what I mean._

_ Of course, _I'd said. It was really none of my business if he had sex with women in his office every other day. I'd rolled my eyes as soon as I was certain he wouldn't see.

"Yes Mr. Wayland?" I said, walking up to his desk, proud that I could now walk in my heels without wobbling in the slightest – in my teenage years, I had been somewhat of a klutz.

"Sit, please."

I did as he asked and he smiled at me.

"Remember how I was talking about that new campaign that you may feature in?"

I ran through my memory bank quickly, I remembered something of the sort. "I remember," I told him.

"I was hoping that we could discuss this over lunch at one, if you're not busy."

It wasn't really a question. It was more of a we're-going-to-lunch-and-you-have-to-cancel-any-plans-you-may-have-had. _I'll have to call Simon._

"I'm not," I said.

"Great," he grinned, and my body hummed. I rolled my eyes to myself for letting him – _my boss!_ – have such an effect over me. I stood to leave and he held a finger up, indicating that I should stop. I did. "Just one more thing. Undo one of those buttons on your blouse, and hitch your skirt up a little, okay honey? We have an image, you know."

"I will," I told him, and I turned to leave to use the bathroom that had been pretty much used by only me in the past week, as the only female on the floor.

I could feel his gaze on my back, and he cleared his throat.

I turned around, "Yes sir?"

"You could fix that here, save you walking the distance."

I felt my eyes widen: shock, horror, and disturbance.

I tried to keep my voice level, "The bathroom will be fine, thank you."

And with that said I sped out of his office, not offering him a second glance, knowing that it was probably a sure-fire way to get me sacked from the best job I'd ever had.

My phone rang as I passed my desk, but I let it go to voicemail and walked to the ladies bathroom. If Jace Wayland ringing to apologise, he could leave a message.

_It was rude,_ I thought, _if not totally inappropriate that he asked me change my outfit in front of him!_

I usually did my buttons up a couple more than most did to be modest, and my skirt hung down to my knees.

Obviously, it wasn't the image that the Wayland Company wanted to promote.

I went into a cubicle and fixed undid a button on my blouse and rolled my skirt around my waist, until it was a good five centimetres above my knee.

I washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror, I ran my finger over my eyelashes, pulling away the bits of mascara that were clumping.

I'd have to fix my makeup before we left the building.

I made my way back to my desk, expecting an apology message left on my phone or perhaps a note on my desk.

I checked the voicemail.

_Just a client, _I thought. _I'll deal with it after lunch. _Ugh. _Lunch with Wayland._

**JxC**

Wayland sent me on a short mission before lunch, going down to the ground floor to talk to his apparent girlfriend, Aline.

"Mr. Wayland wanted me to inform you that he won't be able to meet you for lunch today and that you should just go with Simon Lewis and Kaelie Pink instead."

Aline's face scrunched up. "Did he say why he wasn't coming for lunch?"

"Nope," I said, popping my lips on the P.

This was true. He hadn't told me to tell Aline he was going to lunch with me.

But as I was leaving, I felt that I may as well get my own back. I shot a look at her, locking my gaze onto hers. A gaze that I hoped said, _He's going out to lunch with _me.

**JxC**

"Miss Fairchild," Wayland said to me merrily as soon as I stepped off of the elevator onto the 39th floor.

"Mr. Wayland," I replied. "How was your ten minutes without your PA at your constant beck and call?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I have your mobile number."

"It's in my handbag," I said, lifting it up off of the floor beside my desk and hitching it over my shoulder.

"Shall we go, then?" he asked, holding his arm out.

"Sure thing," I said, pressing the down button on the elevator, not taking his arm. He was clearly a player. I wondered how long he had been with Aline.

When we stepped into the lift he gave me a weird look and I ignored it.

"Clarissa," he whispered, his lips _way_ too close to my ear for what an employer should be.

"Yes?" I said, my voice trembling slightly.

He moved back and I felt cool air surround me.

I swallowed and watched the numbers count down to the ground floor.

When we stepped out of the elevator he swung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close to his side.

I tried to hide the grimace that my brain was signaling for my mouth to do as my body hummed at knowing Jace Wayland was pressed up against my side.

I waited until we'd walked a good two hundred metres before I yanked myself away from him. "What _are_ you playing at?" I said, feeling my emotions get the better of me.

"Being me," he said.

I almost said something snarky but I rolled my eyes and tucked a lock of my red hair behind my ear.

"So, _Clarissa,_ what kind of food do you want?"

"Is it even appropriate to call me by my first name, _Jace_?"

He cringed a little bit, "Okay, it is weird. But what kind of food do you want?"

"Something healthy. I dunno, sushi, salad, whatever. I don't know this part of New York well."

"Ah, I am the in-the-know one of us both then, eh?"

"Seriously, Mr. Wayland. _Please._"

"Sushi," he said, "I can do that."

We made our way to a hidden little sushi place with a couple of girls sitting in the back, talking whilst they ate.

"What kind do you want?" Wayland asked, pulling out his wallet.

"I can pay for my own, Mr. Wayland," I said.

"Okay," he said, looking at the Japanese woman behind the counter. "I'll have two teriyaki, two California and two inari please."

_Could he really eat all of that? He was insane. I could usually finish three at the absolute most._

He paid and took a seat by the window, in the back.

"Um, I'll have a vegetarian and a avocado, please," the woman picked out my sushi and I went and grabbed an iced tea from the fridge by the door.

She told me the price and I paid, taking my plate and heading over to where Wayland sat. I went back and grabbed some soy sauce and wasabi before sitting down across from Wayland.

"You're a wasabi kind of girl, huh?"

"I thought we were here to talk about your big campaign, Mr. Wayland."

"Of course," he said, taking a bite of his sushi. "Are you a good actor?"

"I've never really tried before, English was my forte, not drama."

"Really," he said, taking a huge bite of the last of his first sushi roll, finishing it off in a couple of chews and a swallow. "My strength was in Maths, and English and every subject that had a female teacher."

I rolled my eyes and dipped my vegetarian roll into the soy sauce.

"Miss Fairchild," Wayland said, lifting his head to glance out the window into the almost alley-like street. "Did you grow up here, in New York?"

I nodded, "With my parents, and my brother too. But my parents were divorced a few years earlier, I took my mother's name."

"Interesting," he said, taking another bite of his sushi.

_Just how could he eat so damned fast?_

I nodded and finished off my vegetarian roll before taking a sip of my iced tea.

"Would you mind if I had some of that?" he asked, gesturing towards the bottle in my mind.

"I'd rather you didn't," I said. "I don't want to get any nasty diseases."

"I don't have any," he said as I put my bottle down, picking it up in his hand he poured some into his mouth, keeping his lips at what struck me as a fair distance from the rim.

I swallowed, closing my eyes for a moment as I tried to remove the image of his lips that seemed to burn into my brain.

"Mr. Wayland," I said, and he put the bottle down on the table, stretching his legs out, he bumped mine.

_And just for the record, I did not feel some sort of _zing._ Like a lot of characters in romances seem to feel when they find The One. Not to say that Jace Wayland was The One. But he _was _damn hot._

"Clar—Miss Fairchild, when you finish up your avocado roll we can go. I have work that I must get back to, you realise."

"Of course, because being the CEO of a major company is such a tough job. On that note," I added, taking a small bite of my sushi. "How can you be so high up in the food chain at your age?"

"I'm only twenty-five," he said, shrugging. "It's not that big a deal. How are you the assistant of the CEO of a major corporation at only twenty-three?"

"How did you know how old I was?"

"I read your files, of course. I am the CEO. I have veto over everything."

_Of course. But you still didn't answer my question._

**JxC**_  
_

"Clarissa," I heard a voice – Simon's, I guessed – come from behind me, as soon as it would have been certain that Wayland would have been well on his way to check up on one of his shoots.

"Yeah?" I said, turning in my spinny chair.

"Ah, good. You survived lunch."

"Yeah, why?"

"Mr. Wayland took me to lunch on my first week too. Completely chewed me out, you know? He's so harsh."

"Oh," I said, "he didn't chew _me_ out."

Of course, I knew that Jace Wayland didn't think highly of Simon. I figured that he didn't think highly of any temporary staff members. I was a permanent, though.

"Maybe it's because you're so pretty," Simon said and then slapped a palm to his mouth, his cheeks turning bright red.

I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Simon and I got along well, even after all the years. "I'm sorry I bailed on you at lunchtime."

"S'alright. It's Mr. Wayland after all. He could fire any one of us in a blink of his eye, a flick of his wrist."

"That's true," I said. "I'm still sorry. Tomorrow, okay? Unless Wayland insists that we go to lunch again… That reminds me, _did_ you go to lunch with Aline-front-desk-lady and that pink-haired temp, um, Kaelie?"

"No. God no."

I smiled, "Thank the heavens. That Penhallow girl is… I just don't like her."

Simon grinned, bumping my shoulder with his fist, "Because she's having sex with the boss, huh?"

"Hardly," I said. "He's – he's just not my type."

"What is your type then?"

"Simon Lewis, I hope you're not hitting on me."

"And if I was?"

"I would be worried about your job, especially if Wayland ever heard of it."

"Wayland? You call him that?"

"Not to his face, of course," I said. "He's Mr. Wayland. But ugh, Simon. He called me _Clarissa_ today. I almost gagged!"

"I hope you told him to knock it off right away."

And we chattered on for the best half of an hour, until the elevator _ding_ed and I shooed Simon back off to his workspace – wherever that was.

**JxC**

"Mr. Wayland," I said with a smile, standing.

He walked over to me and sat down on my desk, resting his palms behind him, he knocked over my pen pot, and I heard them all fall to the floor.

_Tough day at the shoot? _I would've said, but he was my boss, not my best friend. God, Clary. "Something wrong, sir?" He shivered and I wondered if he was cold, so I asked. He said that he was, so I went and turned the heating up in his office.

"Miss Fairchild," he said quietly.

"Yes," I replied just as quietly, "do you have a headache? Would you like me to get you some Panadol?"

He shook his head, "Thank you, but I'd rather you just run down to the corner store and buy some things for me, alright?"

I picked up one of the few pens that hadn't fallen and my company notepad. "Okay, what do you want me to get?"

**JxC**

_Starburst, Reese's, Coca-Cola, condoms – _surprise me, he'd said – _Pump water, and a packet of cigarettes._

_ Ew, cigarettes, _I thought as I passed the money over the counter.

I couldn't believe that he smoked. It was such a horrible habit – a total and complete turn-off. There had not been a guy, who once I'd found out had smoked, who lasted more than a day. When I had kids, I didn't want them to end up having their father dying of lung cancer because of _cigarettes._

Katy Perry was playing over the radio in-store and I really wished that she wasn't. I was sick of hearing her voice already. _No offense, Perry, _I thought with a roll of my eyes.

Condoms weren't something that I wanted to be buying for my boss either. I didn't want to know anything about his sexual escapades – whether they were with Aline-front-desk-lady or not.

I called up Wayland's desk phone on my mobile and he picked up, sounding ill.

"Jace Wayland of Wayland Colognes," he said, then he coughed twice. "I'm sorry –"

"Mr. Wayland," I said, trying to keep my voice as soothing as possible – being sick sucked like hell. "I just wanted to check that there wasn't anything else you wanted before I came back up."

"Pick me up that Panadol?"

I smiled to myself, feeling a little guilty for doing so. "On it," I told him.

"Thank you, Miss Fairchild."

"You're welcome, sir."

And I snapped my phone shut, looking for that ever-elusive Panadol.

**JxC**

"Mr. Wayland," I said, opening the door as quietly as I could, only to see him slumped over his desk, his head in his arms. "Fuck," I muttered, rushing to his side and dropping the bag. "Are you alright?" I asked. _Stupid question, _idiot.

He groaned and I was glad he wasn't dead or something crazy.

"Panadol," I said. "I have it here." I passed him the packet and he tore it open. "I'll just get you some water – oh, you didn't have to – swallow them like that!"

He glanced up at me, looking way too tired for my liking.

I remembered the Pump water in the shopping bag and I pulled it out for him.

He chugged about half of the bottle in one go and I couldn't help but let my eyes widen in shock. "Is there – um – anything else, Mr. Wayland?"

"Clarissa," he said, and I ignored it. He was sick, out of his mind. "I want to go home."

"Of course, I'll just call for –"

"Don't bother them. You have a car. Drive me."

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **_**Mortal Instruments**_** or any of the characters featured so far in my story (except the doorman, he's mine).**

_Hey, it's me again! Finally updated. Reviews are appreciated – even if it's just a couple of words. :) I just want to make sure, again, that you guys know that updating for this is probably going to be pretty irregular – I'll try to keep a regular posting up, but I have exams coming up in like five weeks (I really should've waited to post this fic, you know?). Even if you don't review, I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am._

_Oh, and if you're in need of some new music to listen to, by any chance at all. Check out Sara Jackson-Holman's debut album, "When You Dream". It is amazing! I've had it on repeat for days. (There's also Florence + the Machine and Marina & the Diamonds too – they're just as fantastic.)_

_Ah, I'm rambling here, but I must warn you that I may use typically "Australian" words in my fics, rather than traditional "American" words which I assume most of my readers are. (I hope I'm not wrong here.) For instance, I used "Panadol" in this chapter, when I think Americans call it "Tylenol" (yes/no?), so I hope it's not too annoying… I'm going to seriously shut up now._

_~Maisy :) x_


	3. Chapter TWO

_**Previously in At Your Assistance:**_

"Clarissa," he said, and I ignored it. He was sick, out of his mind. "I want to go home."

"Of course, I'll just call for –"

"Don't bother them. You have a car. Drive me."

* * *

**Chapter TWO**

_Monday 22nd November_

"Where do you live?" I asked, after I finally got him downstairs to the car park, where I, fortunately, had been guaranteed a parking space.

He groaned as he clambered into my car, and told me his address.

I felt my eyes widen, "Really?" I asked. "That's a fair way from here."_ It also sounded rather close to my apartment._

He nodded, "I know."

"You really do sound awful," I said.

"You've told me. And usually, I am in much better health. However, if you were up for it, I'm sure I could find the energy."

"No, Mr. Wayland. You're my boss. It's not happening."

"Oh, but Miss Fairchild –"

"No, Mr. Wayland," I said in a sterner voice as I pulled out into the busy New York City street that was going to become awfully familiar, I was sure.

He sighed, and we didn't speak for the rest of the drive, except when he was giving me directions, "A left here," "A right there," he told me.

And then we were on the same street as my apartment was; I grimaced. I could not believe this. "Miss Fairchild," he coughed. "I'm in the modern one, see it?"

"No, I – _oh,_ right."

I looked around trying to spot somewhere to park, but there was nowhere.

"Just drive up into my garage, alright?"

I nodded, taking the right up into the driveway that lead to the garage of his apartment.

"I'm on the second floor of parking, space twenty-oh-one."

"Okay," I said, though it took me two lengths of the second floor to find the spot, noticing that Mr. Wayland had dozed off.

Once we were parked I took the moment to look him over, his blond curls, his face smoothed out as he relaxed, not grinning or smirking at me in that way that he seemed to have. His breathing was deep and slow, his chest rising and falling against the seat of my car. He'd untucked his shirt as soon as he'd sat down in the car. And now he stretched, his eyes still closed, his arms, reaching above his head, _bang_ed against the roof of my car, but I was watching that blonde treasure trail appear and disappear from my view.

He yawned and opened his eyes.

I gave him a meek smile, "Ready to get your sick –" _ass upstairs? _I cleared my throat, such an inappropriate thing to say! "Are you ready to go to your apartment?"

"I'm in the penthouse, actually," he told me and I rolled my eyes.

"Of course you are," I said sweetly, though mentally I was saying it in the most sarcastic tone my mind could conjure.

**JxC**

When Wayland put the key in the door his apartment it swung open wildly, before he even had a chance to turn it. "Jace!" a man said, his black hair shining in the light. He was gorgeous, almost as much so as Wayland. "What are you doing back so –" his eyes met mine, not widening in shock, showing no emotion. If anything he seemed to withdraw a little bit.

"C'mon, Alec," Wayland said tightly. "Just let me – us – in."

Alec stepped back out of the way and both Wayland and I walked in, me in complete silence, Wayland muttering something about how Alec was "just _so_ uptight."

"So, um, Jace," Alec said, focusing his blue eyes on me for a moment and then turning to Wayland, who had his head in the fridge. "Who's this?"

_Jesus. I'm not in the room or anything._

Wayland grunted – typical male.

"I'm Clarissa Fairchild," I said, shaking his hand.

"Alec Lightwood," he replied. "You must be Jace's new PA, right?"

"Um, yes. I am." I glanced over at him; his head still in the fridge, feeling worry lace my thoughts. I lowered my voice, "Is he, um, gonna be okay?"

"Should be," Alec Lightwood said, "he usually rights up after he's slept."

"Ah, okay," I said.

"Mm-hmm, so, do you want a drink or something? Miss Fairchild?"

"Oh, I'll have a tea," I said, "thank you. And you can call me Clarissa."

Wayland stood up straight suddenly, staring at me. "How come he can call you Clarissa, Miss Fairchild?"

"Because he isn't my boss, and just an acquaintance?"

"Don't worry about him," Alec said to me, and then to Wayland he said: "So you're a bit high on the Panadol, huh?" Wayland didn't respond. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

He did so, Wayland was cooperative, letting Alec drag him into what must've been his bedroom.

When Alec came out, he smiled at me. "Tea," he said, "how do you take it?"

"White, two sugars," I said.

"Two sugars for a sweet girl?" he smiled, but not like Wayland did, his smile was just kind and joking. He appeared to have relaxed, though he still seemed distant somehow. "It was nice of you to bring him home."

"I'm his PA; isn't it my job?"

"Not really," Alec said, boiling the kettle. "I mean, most of the PAs he brought home were just for – actually, you probably don't want to hear that."

I grimaced, sitting down on a barstool. "Does he get sick often?"

"Not really, it's happened a few times before. But it's not what I'd call common. I guess you just got lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it."

I didn't say anything, just watching the world go past through the window.

_For a first day at work, this was crazy._

"Did he eat anything weird today?"

"Huh, no. I don't think so. We had sushi for lunch, but that was all I saw him eat."

"Ah." Alec said, as if this meant something. _It sure as hell didn't mean anything to me. _"What did he order?"

"Um, California, Teriyaki and Inari?"

"Far out," Alec mumbled, slapping a palm to his forehead.

"What?"

"He cannot stomach eggs. He's such an idiot."

"You sound a bit like a mother hen," I noted.

"Someone has to be the woman in this household," he told me. "And _Jace_ – ugh, he stretches the limits so bad sometimes."

I sat in silence, watching Alec make my cup of tea. "So," I said finally. "How did you two meet?"

"He's practically my brother," Alec told me. "My sister, Isabelle, and I met Jace when he was about thirteen. Our father found him wandering the streets, and he's been living with us ever since." There was a sadness in Alec's tone that I couldn't place, but it wasn't my right to ask, nor to be so curious.

**JxC**

"Simon," I sighed, resting my head in my arms on the dining table. "Mr. Wayland can be so frustrating – as much as I feel for him."

"Do you want me to make dinner?"

"No, no. I will make it, just give me a few minutes."

Simon didn't say anything; he just sat there at the table, like me.

Since _I'd_ invited him over for dinner, I figured that I should make dinner. _Eventually…_

"Right," I said. "Spaghetti okay?"

"Sure is. Need some help?"

"Simon," I said seriously. "It's _spaghetti_. Anyone can make spaghetti."

"No," he said, in the same tone, but he was smiling. "When we were twelve, we tried to make spaghetti bolognaise and you burnt the spaghetti."

"Yeah, well, my cooking skills have improved a little in the past eleven years, Simon."

"Still," he said, "I'll at least keep you company in the kitchen."

"Alright, come and help. It'll be like old times or something."

"Yeah, but, really, _really_ old times… Over a decade ago. God. That really _is_ a heck of a long time, Clary."

I smiled, and walked into the kitchen. I stumbled on the flooring and caught myself before I could embarrass myself too close to the ends of the Earth.

"Ugh," Simon said, "I hope you're not doing that on purpose; that whole clumsy thing. I don't remember you as klutzy. It's so old now, I swear heaps of girls go around now, pretending that they need saving. All because of that stupid Bella Swan."

I gave Simon a look as I reached for the spaghetti sauce in the pantry. "Really, Simon? Also, you _read_ that?"

Simon's cheeks turned pink. "I saw the movies. I _may_ have read the books."

"I am sensing a guilty pleasure here." I grinned, grabbing the rest of the ingredients as Simon jumped up on the counter, sitting there and watching me.

"I only liked the first two books, after that they were crap. Didn't you read them?"

I gave him a half-smile, "Of course. Everyone did. Ms. Meyer is a lucky woman."

We chatted easily as I made the spaghetti, and when we finally sat down at the table, I watched him eat his first bite, awaiting the verdict. "It's burnt," he told me, point blank.

"No way!" I said, shoving a forkful into my mouth, I chewed quickly, swallowing. "Mine's not," I told him, with a quizzical look.

He grinned at me, and then I clued in.

"You suck," I said. "It's not burnt at all, is it?"

"Nah, it's great."

I rolled my eyes at him and repeated what I said about him sucking.

**JxC**

_Tuesday 23rd November_

"You know," I heard Mr. Wayland say as soon as I'd settled at my desk, first thing in the morning. _Day two,_ I thought, _God knows how long to go_. "We didn't end up talking about the big campaign during lunch. Up for it again?"

"Mr. Wayland, I cannot eat out every day of the week. It's too expensive."

"I'll pay," he told me.

"I'd rather not have that on my conscience." _Or my paycheck._

"It wouldn't be. I'm sure we can call it the costs of working."

I couldn't turn him down. It would be rude.

"Okay," I told him. "I'll go. One?"

"Sounds good. I'll need you to prepare some files for me, Miss Fairchild. I have a meeting in an hour."

I nodded. "I can do that."

I searched through my computer, scanning for the files that Wayland had me write up yesterday after lunch. I prepped a professional-looking powerpoint presentation and when Wayland walked out of his office he looked at me. "Ready?"

"I'll just transfer these files to the laptop…" I told him. "And then we'll be ready."

I watched the blue bar run across the screen as the files transferred and we got in the lift, making our way down to the fifth floor.

"Okay, so," I began, filling him in on the powerpoint that I'd made, whilst I looked in the mirror on the lift, styling my hair into a messy bun.

When I was done I smiled at myself and looked up at the floor numbers, seven, six, five. _Ding._

"You know," Wayland said to me, "Miss Fairchild, you look nicer with your hair down. It frames your face well."

"Thank you," I said, "but I don't like when it gets in my eyes."

We walked down the corridor to the presentation room, where Wayland was meeting with some of the advertising heads and public relations staff, showing them his great idea.

"Do you need me in there?" I asked, feeling vaguely nervous, as it was the first presentation I'd done for the company, prepping the papers and everything.

"We have a stool in the back corner that you can sit on – in case anything goes wrong during the presentation. But you must stay quiet, okay? PAs are rarely seen, and when they are, they are not heard, as they used to say of children." He smirked.

"Of course," I said, as Wayland pushed the door open.

"Mr. Wayland," a few of the men said as he walked through and he greeted them all by name merrily.

A man who looked older than Wayland, but not so old that he could be considered so said to Wayland, "Who's your new PA?"

"Miss Clarissa Fairchild," he told him, glancing over at me and smiling.

Wayland mouthed something that I didn't catch and so I nodded, feeling awkward.

And the meeting went ahead.

**JxC**

Wayland and I stayed behind after the meeting, the last man to leave was the one who had asked who I was, his hair was dark, and my favourite length, but it was spiked up with gel or putty or something. He wore a bright pink tie with his white suit, and he smiled at me. _He was wearing lip gloss. And mascara!_ Gay? Yup, I do think so.

"Miss Fairchild," he said to me, taking my hand when I offered it to shake and holding it up to his lips, kissing the back of my hand, his eyes closed.

I looked over at Wayland. _I wasn't used to this._ He wasn't looking back.

But the man stood up straight again, "I'm Magnus Bane."

"Mr. Bane," I said. "What did you think of our presentation?"

"Please call me Magnus, dear. It was quite good – I especially liked the powerpoint presentation. You're much better than any of Jace's old PAs."

"Thank you," I said, feeling blood colour my cheeks. "How long have you been with the company?"

"I've been working here for –" he looked over at Wayland, as if for clarification "– two years now." Magnus Bane smirked. "How about you, dear?"

I swallowed, "Um. This is my second day, actually."

"You're doing awfully well, considering."

"I worked under my father as soon as I was out of school," I told him, smoothing my skirt. "He was very strict about stuff like this."

"'Stuff like this,'" Magnus Bane pointed out, "does not sound very strict to me."

My brow furrowed, "_Shh_ you."

Magnus Bane laughed, and Wayland looked over at us, giving me a half-smirk. I smiled back.

"Anyway, my lovelies, I must head back up to my floor, talk with these advertising heads and such." He shrugged. "It's life. I'll see you tonight, Jace?"

"I didn't know you were coming over. He didn't tell me, huh. I guess so. See ya, Mag." Jace Wayland said as Magnus Bane walked out of the door, leaving Wayland and I alone.

"So, Miss Fairchild. Lunch? We have to discuss this campaign. And I know the perfect place."

**JxC**

Wayland got Simon to come down on the elevator and grab all of the stuff that he'd used for the presentation to take it back up to floor 39 so that we could head straight to lunch.

_I don't have my bag, though, _I'd told Wayland after he hung up on Simon.

_Are you really going to need it?_

_ No, but – well, I feel weird without it._

_ I don't, _he said, smirking. I was starting to hate his smirk…

"'The Clockwork Angel'?" I asked. "What kind of a name for a café is that?"

"You'll see," was all Wayland said as he held the door open for me.

And I did, hanging on the wall was a giant sculpture of a Clockwork Angel, made entirely out of a golden metal. I also noticed that all of the waitresses were wearing the same Angels on necklaces.

"So," I began, "what's good to eat here?"

"I usually go for the hamburger. Sometimes fish and chips. But most food here is amazing."

"Right," I said, looking over the menu. I looked up at him; "You have your wallet, right?"

"Of course," he said, smirking. _Far out!_ He tapped the side of his leg.

I ended up ordering a garden salad and a lemon, lime & bitters, while Wayland, who had told me he was feeling "adventurous," had ordered the chicken curry pie and an iced coffee.

"Well," Wayland said, halfway through his pie, now taking a sip of his iced coffee. "About this campaign. We're thinking that it's going to be sexy, you know? But not too far stretched." I felt my eyes widen and he added. "You won't have to wear a bikini or anything. Don't panic. We're currently looking at going for a kind of workplace image, so right now you'll be wearing something similar to what you are now, but played up a lot."

I concentrated on my garden salad, listening intently, waiting for him to continue.

"Miss Fairchild?" I looked up. "Good. You are listening. The other idea we were considering was more of a formal perfume, like if you were going out on a date with the hottest guy in the world." And by the look on his face, he was thinking of himself.

_Ugh, egotistic bastard._

"Sounds interesting," I lied. "Will these be, like, just me in the shoots, or will I be alongside someone else?"

"The team and I had yet to decide ultimately on this one, but we're currently leaning towards yes; a man, if so. But my casting directors have yet to find a suitable candidate." He ran his hand through his hair, almost in frustration, by the look of it.

I'd had enough chat about the campaign, and Wayland looked like he had too. I decided that, just once, I could let my curiosity get the better of me. "Magnus Bane," I said, "what was he saying about seeing you tonight?"

Wayland's brain seemed to skip a beat; he hesitated.

"You don't have to tell me," I said.

"It's fine. You remember Alec, I presume." I nodded.

And Wayland left it at that, leaving me to connect the dots.

Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood. What kind of connection could they have?

_Oh. Whoa._ "They're – together?" I said.

Wayland nodded. "But hush, okay, honey? Alec doesn't want the whole world in on this – Magnus doesn't really care, though. Alec's more secretive. We all knew Alec was in love with Magnus long before he realised it."

"Really?" I said, then, "'we'?"

"Magnus, Izzy, Max –" he cleared his throat "– even Max," there was sadness in his voice, in his expression.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"What for?"

"Whatever happened to, well, Max."

"Thank you," Jace Wayland said. "I appreciate it, Clarissa."

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **_**Mortal Instruments**_** or any of the characters featured so far in my story. Or **_**Clockwork Angel**_** for that matter.**

_"Working under Jace Wayland never promised to be easy for Clarissa Fairchild. And with the rest of the gang in the picture, won't things get a little bit crazy?"_

_Do you reckon that would be a better summary? I'm not too sure. Any ideas of what I should put in my summary? 'Coz I'm not really liking my current one – as many followers as it has managed to attract._

_On that note, I find it truly interesting that so many FFers are lurkers. How is an author supposed to know if you're enjoying the story if you don't review? Oh well, that's my little rant._

_Also, updating on Sunday better than Tuesday? Tell me, people!_

_~Maisy :) x_**  
**


	4. Chapter THREE

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"What for?"

"Whatever happened to, well, Max."

"Thank you," Jace Wayland said. "I appreciate it, Clarissa."

**JxC**

**Chapter THREE**

_Tuesday 23rd November_

Once we arrived back at the building, Wayland walked into his office, not offering me even a glance as he closed the doors behind him.

"What's up with him?" Simon said, appearing as I took my seat in my spinny chair.

"I dunno," I lied. _Max._

I was so goddamned curious, tempted to Google him, even. But it really wouldn't be a good idea. Instead I picked up a pencil and span it between my fingers.

"Lunch _again_, though? I guess I wasn't here to see how he treated his last PA on her first week."

"Miss Penhallow?"

"Ah, yeah. Her. She got demoted to front desk after she got too attached to Mr. Wayland."

"I can see her doing that."

"Uh-huh. She was not impressed when Mr. Wayland told her either, slapped him hard across the face. She was lucky she didn't lose her job here entirely."

"Sure sounds like it," I replied, giving Simon a small smile.

"Well," he said, standing, "I better get back to work."

"All right. See ya around."

I looked down at the blank notepad in front of me, and since Wayland hadn't given me any jobs, I let my mind wander, and let my fingers follow the pencil. When I managed to grab my concentration back enough to see what I'd drawn I was shocked. I'd drawn a picture of Wayland's smirk.

I tore off the top piece of paper and ran it through the shredder.

I pressed '1' on the speed dial of my desk phone and held it to my ear, waiting for Wayland to pick up.

"Yes, Miss Fairchild?"

"Is there any work you'd like me to do, Mr. Wayland? Get you a coffee perhaps?" I hoped that I didn't sound desperate – I sure as hell felt it. But I wanted to get away from my desk and that notepad.

"Hmmm, well… Perhaps you could run down to the Clockwork Angel and buy me an iced tea with lemon to go."

"Of course, Mr. Wayland. I'll be back as soon as possible."

I reveled in the silence of the elevator, letting my mind wander and wonder as to why I'd drawn what I had.

The elevator _bing_ed, telling me that it was stopping on the tenth floor.

The doors opened and I watched as a tall woman stepped into the lift. She gave me a smile, and that was it. She pressed the button for the second floor and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Second floor had meeting rooms, I thought, maybe she was nervous about a presentation? She was beautiful, though. The type of woman who was so beautiful that no one would ever think that she could have self-confidence issues. Who knew? Maybe my assumptions were wrong anyway.

She had her incredibly shiny black hair pulled back into a French twist, with small glasses perched on her nose.

After a moment she opened her eyes and her mouth, "You must be Clarissa Fairchild, right?"

Apparently mine was now a household name. God, Wayland must get around. It was only my second day. "Yeah," I said, "I am."

**JxC**

_Friday 10th December_

The woman that I met on the elevator to get Wayland's iced-tea-with-lemon-to-go was Isabelle Lightwood. She worked in the Public Relations section of the building, sometimes she worked closely with Wayland to work on his appearance, or so she told me.

It was practically a fortnight after my first day at the office when Isabelle invited me over for dinner at her place. Of course, since it was a Friday, and I had no better plans, I'd said yes. And I was glad that I had a female friend in the building.

I'd barely knocked on the door to her apartment once when it opened and I was greeted by a grinning Isabelle. "Clarissa!" she beamed, hugging me tightly before stepping aside to let me in. "It's so nice to see you!"

"You too, Izzy."

We sat on the lounge, and I felt a little awkward. "Would you like a wine?"

"Yeah, sure," I smiled.

"White's good?"

"Of course."

She went to the kitchen, where I could still see her, due to the open-plan living space – which I admired, I loved it; it was so much better than my living areas.

"So Clarissa," she said, grabbing wine glasses from a cupboard, "don't you have a nickname or something? Clarissa seems like such a –" she began to pour the wine, taking a breath, as if she were afraid she'd screw up somehow "– mouthful, really."

"Well," I said, hesitating, "some people call me Clary." _And that's what I prefer my _close _friends to call me._

"Oh, that's nice… _Clary_." She smiled at me, bringing over the glasses.

"So," I said, taking my glass as she offered it.

She sat down beside me and I took a small sip: it wasn't bad wine. Not bad at all. "What is this?"

"The wine? It's – actually, I don't even know. My brother bought it for my birthday."

"That's nice. Is your brother anyone I might know?"

"Well, you've been up to Jace's apartment, right?"

_Oh my God._ "Isabelle Lightwood. Alec Lightwood. _He's_ your brother?" I didn't let her answer. "I should've known!"

She gave a small laugh, "Yeah, maybe."

"Your hair… I should've realised."

"You only met him for a few minutes, though, right? It's understandable."

"I guess so. Anyway," I said, "your view is just _so_ much better than mine."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, like I can see another building, that's all. I don't even have a balcony."

"Oh, wow." She looked like she was considering saying something, but turned the idea down.

We ended up getting take-away for dinner – Chinese, in fact.

And just as we were about to order, Isabelle said, "Hey Clary, do you wanna call Jace and see if they want some too?"

"Oh, sure," I said. Wayland and I had been getting along _fine_, I guess was the best word. His words to me weren't cold, nor short and snappy, but he seemed somehow more withdrawn that he had been on my first two days. And when I spoke to Izzy about it, she told me that it was unusual. I picked my mobile out of my handbag and rang Wayland's number.

He picked up on the fourth ring and his voice sounded rough as he said, "Yeah, what d'you want?"

"Sorry, Mr. Wayland. It's Miss Fairchild." Isabelle shot me a look I didn't quite understand. "Isabelle wants me to ask you if you'd like some Chinese for dinner."

I heard muffled voices from the other side of the phone, as if Wayland had covered the receiver with his hand. Then he spoke, his voice clear. "Yeah, tell Izzy that Alec wants his usual. Magnus'll have the same as Alec and, well, Izzy can surprise me. Oh, and can we get some, ahem, extra fried rice with sweet and sour pork?"

I relayed this to Isabelle before telling Wayland that we'd bring it up later or something.

"Extra fried rice and sweet and sour pork, he said, right?"

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"That means that he's… that he is _still_ getting it on with _Aline Penhallow_." And she said the name with disgust, as if she truly despised the woman.

So I asked her, "You don't like Miss Penhallow?"

"'Miss Penhallow,'" she said mockingly. "Hardly. _Aline_ is such a bitch, but she does have a nice body, I guess. And Jace goes for that."

_There goes any hope of – oh my God! How could I even be thinking about that!_

"Clary? You 'right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I just spaced out for a bit, I guess."

"Well, let's go and pick up dinner. It's just down the street. Do you have a coat or something? It's getting cold out these days."

"I don't," I frowned. "Do you reckon I could –"

"Borrow one?" she interrupted. "Of course you can! I have one that will match your shoes perfectly." She grinned and bounced off into a room off of the main living area.

I decided to follow and found myself in what looked like a spare bedroom, which apparently Isabelle was using as a wardrobe.

"And here we go," she said, giving me a little twirl as she held the jacket up in her hands. "It's perfect, though it might be a bit big. We can always fold the sleeves up inwards to make it look more like it was made to fit you." She took the dark grey coat off of its hanger and handed it to me.

I tried it on, and she was right. It was too big. She helped me roll the sleeves up and we made our way down the street to Dumpling World.

We did spend a good twenty minutes waiting for our order, and we _might_ have nibbled on a certain someone's sweet and sour pork and extra fried rice on the walk back to the modern apartment building that Isabelle, Alec and Wayland were currently living in.

And as we chatted, I felt less uneasy around Isabelle.

We went straight up to Wayland's apartment before going back down to Isabelle's to drop off their orders.

We knocked on the door, and it did seem to take a few knocks before _someone_ answered the door.

And it was Wayland, jeans hung loose around his hips, the button undone and a button-up shirt, with again the buttons undone. "Ladies, ladies. How many times have I told you both about the staring quota?"

"Once," I said, in unison with Isabelle's: "About a million times."

Wayland laughed and didn't make any move to let us pass.

Isabelle cleared her throat. "Jace, let us in."

"Why should I, Izzy?"

"Because you're hungry," she said, holding up the bags of Chinese food, "and we have food. The kind that you can eat."

"Nothing you made then," he smirked.

"Shut up, Jace. My cooking is fine. Now let us in, or in the Angel's name I will damn you."

_The Angel?_ I wanted to ask. _Some kind of cult? What happened to 'God'?_

This seemed to strike something within Wayland and he stepped aside.

I held up the bag that held the drinks we had bought – Pepsi, Coke and Sprite – and Wayland took it from me. "You guys wanna to eat up here with us?"

"Clary?" Isabelle said.

"I, uh, don't mind." I told her.

"Great," he grinned. _"Alec! Mag!"_

There was a muffled yell from behind a closed door and I smiled a little.

"Leave them alone," Isabelle told Wayland as he finally shut the door into his _penthouse._ "I'm sure we can manage to set the table without Alec."

"Really, Isabelle? Do you ever set the table?"

"Um, Clary, do you –"

"Know how to set a table?" it was finally my turn to smirk instead of Wayland's. "Yes, I do." But really, I would've thought that even rich people would be able to work out how to set a table.

"Fabulous!" she said, then showing me where Wayland and Alec kept all of their cutlery and crockery.

I set the table, even grabbing table mats that I spotted out of a cupboard to complete the room.

When Alec finally appeared out of his bedroom, Magnus in tow, his eyes widened as he spotted the table. "As if Jace! When did you ever learn to set a table?"

"Well," he said, "I did a course the other day actually."

Isabelle rolled her eyes and put her Chinese on her plate. "Hardly," she said, and then Jace winced. Maybe she'd kicked him under the table? "Clary set the table."

Alec gave me a look. "Clarissa, right?"

"Um, yes."

"Oh, _Clarissa!_" Magnus grinned, seeming to snap out of his daze. "How have you been?"

I smiled, "Not bad, yourself?"

Magnus opened his mouth to reply but Wayland interrupted him. _Idiot._ "Can we please just eat? I'm starving!"

Alec and Magnus Bane sat down and Wayland picked up his fork and started shoveling his food into his mouth like I'd never seen before. He managed to eat so, so quickly, but without spilling a drop.

Magnus and Alec spoke to each other quietly, and Isabelle seemed to want to say something to Wayland; she was glaring at him. I just ate at a steady pace, and taking a sip of water every few mouthfuls.

"What is it, Izzy?" Wayland said, almost snapped, really.

"Where's the bitch?"

"Aline? She went home while you were getting food."

Isabelle and I laughed; we'd practically eaten all of her food on the way back. It was nice to know it wasn't going to waste. I looked at Isabelle and we both grinned.

Wayland just went back to eating.

"So anyway," Isabelle said to me, as she finished up her meal. "We should meet up for lunch on Monday. Ooh, maybe we could go shopping on Saturday!"

"I'm not such a fan of –"

"Brilliant! I'll meet you at your apartment at nine A.M. sharp!" And then she stood and walked out of Wayland's apartment.

"Um –"

Alec and Magnus looked up and I felt myself cringe internally – this was just so freaking awkward.

"I – should be – going."

"You don't have to," Magnus offered. "You could stay for drinks. We were going to go out, maybe to a club."

"I'm still in my work clothes," I said, as no more than an excuse.

"Well, if you really say so. But we could always take you over to your place first. Plus, we need to stop Jace from hitting on every single ass in sight at those clubs. He'll get us kicked out one day."

My body decided to take control of my mouth, not letting my brain have a say in it, "Yeah, okay. I'm in."

_Like hell I would ever get into his pants._

_ Oh my God. Shut it with those thoughts!_

"Well, I'll just – um."

"Look," Wayland said. "We'll clean up here first – because Alec is such a _mother_ and won't let me leave a mess _anywhere_. And then we'll get ready, and then walk you to your apartment and you can put on a nice little dress or something."

"Alright," I said – I could hardly say no _now_. "Do you need me to do the washing up, or do you know how to do that, Mr. Wayland?"

"_Clarissa_," he said. "Call me Jace for now. And yes, surprisingly, I can wash up. But I'll dry. Alec, Magnus, you go and finish up whatever you were doing."

"So I'm washing?"

"Yup."

I could handle that.

**JxC**

"So," Wayland said as I passed him yet another clean plate, "can you handle your liquor?"

"Well," I said, lying wouldn't exactly help me at this point, right? "I'm not the best by a long shot, but I don't get wasted after one glass of wine or one shot."

"Aline can hold her liquor well. But sometimes I wonder if she pretends to get drunk just so that she can –"

"Please, Mr. Way—Jace. Too much information!"

"Oh, _Clary_." I winced. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind." He smirked.

"No," I said. "I don't want to hear it."

"Jace," Magnus said, coming out, from what I presumed was Alec's room, in some crazy sparkly tights and a tye-dye t-shirt, with a suit jacket over the top. "Leave Clarissa alone."

"Clary," I told him, since everyone seemed to be calling me that now. "Call me Clary."

"Right, Clary," Magnus grinned widely, his white-as-white teeth sparkling under the overhead lighting.

"Clary," Alec repeated, seemingly trying it out.

"Well, do you guys mind if I invite my best friend too?"

"Isabelle?" Jace said. "Sure."

"No, I meant Simon."

"That loser, really?"

I let my brow furrow. "Don't be an ass."

"Is that any kind of language to using around your _boss_, Miss Fairchild?"

"I'm sure it's not, Mr. Wayland. But going clubbing with your _boss_ isn't exactly employee etiquette either."

"Well I didn't invite you."

"Can you two stop bickering!" Alec interrupted, his voice quiet but harsh. "You're like an old married couple!"

"Oh, shut up, Alec." Jace said, then he turned to me. "And no to the _BFF_."

Magnus let out a bellow of a laugh and Jace set down the last plate.

"I'll just get ready, alright? Then we can go."

"Can't you just go in what you're wearing? You know you look amazing in everything," Magnus offered.

"I suppose that's true," he said, finally doing up the buttons on his shirt, though he left the top few undone, showing off a few blonde chest hairs. "I'll just grab a jacket."

I was proud of myself, for not staring at him all evening, despite that fact that he'd been showing off his chest. But I had been right; he _did_ have a great body underneath his suit.

He came back with a black leather jacket folded over his arm, and headed straight to the door. "Okay, let's go."

**JxC**

I was in my room, looking through my few dresses that were somewhat suitable for clubbing. Basically, they were not worthy – I would look incredibly subpar standing next to Wayland.

"Hey, honey?" it was Magnus, knocking on my door.

"Um, yeah?"

"Do you want some help?"

I grabbed a long t-shirt and slipped it on over my bra and undies.

"You can come in now."

Magnus opened the door quietly and snuck in, closing the door behind him. "Jace is exploring your apartment. Like he hasn't seen it before," he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, what are our options?"

I showed him and he shook his head, instead picking out one of my older dresses, one that I would have never considered and told me to put it on. "It – it's too long," I told him. "I can't go clubbing in a maxi dress; it's just not attractive."

"Well, I guess you're lucky that I took an interest in the fashion industry for a few years before I moved to the office."

"Really, anything I might have seen?"

He pulled a sewing kit out of his pocket and started chopping huge chunks off my dress. "I hope you don't mind."

Though it was a bit too late to be minding, I told him the truth, "I don't. But still, answer my question?"

"Well, I worked under a different name. I was, well, Elijah Fox."

"Hang on," I said, jerking away from him, he jabbed a pin in my leg. "_Elijah Fox?_ I loved your work! But wasn't he blonde?"

"It was dyed, so that when I went back to a normal life, people wouldn't recognise me. And they don't. It's nice to be _free_ sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think I do."

"Now be still, or we'll never get out to clubbing. Alec likes to be in bed by three."

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Mortal Instruments_ or _Clockwork Angel_. And to steal what another FFer said, if I did own_ TMI_, I would not be writing fanfiction.**

_Australian words:_

Lift:_ (in case I ever write it) in the right context, it probably means "elevator" (how I detest the word elevator, but I'm trying to be more realistic, so I must deal! My fellow Australians/UK-Englishers will suffer with me here. I am not alone)!_

Panadol:_ Tylenol (or so I was informed, and have learnt after reading many US novels)._

_Just in case you're interested: figureskater1589 PMed me and asked me if some of the story would be in a Jace POV. I'm leaning towards every four or five chapters. _

_I totally had to rewrite this chapter – blah! How annoying, right? – because it was going in a direction that I totally didn't want it to (and I never plan my stories, so… it would've ended up super retarded)._

_Sorry, talk about a long A/N – thanks for sticking with it! I just wanted to say that for Chapter FIVE, I will be upping the rating from 'T' to 'M' just to be on the safe side, due to almost-but-not-really sex scenes ;). Do enjoy! (Also, I'm currently writing Chapter SIX – exciting, right?)_

_Ideas, issues? Give me a review!_

_Over and out! (Always wanted to say that!)_

_~Maisy :) x_


	5. Chapter FOUR

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"Hang on," I said, jerking away from him, he jabbed a pin in my leg. "_Elijah Fox?_ I loved your work! But weren't you blonde then?"

"It was dyed, so that when I went back to a normal life, people wouldn't recognise me. And they don't. It's nice to be _free_ sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think I do."

"Now be still, or we'll never get out to the club. Alec likes to be in bed by three."

**JxC**

**Chapter FOUR**

_Friday 10th December_

When Magnus had finished fixing up my dress – _Elijah Fox!_ I thought, _to have an original piece…_ but I regress – I felt almost naked, my dress was mid-thigh, and tight around my waist, flaring out to accentuate my non-existent hips, as well as ruffling around my breasts. But I managed to clean up good, thanks to Magnus, and despite the feeling almost naked-ness.

"Go and do your hair," he told me. "I'll see if I can't find some shoes for that outfit."

"Won't, um, Alec and _Jace_ think that we're doing – something?"

"Having sex? Making out? No, I'm a committed boyfriend, thank you very much. You are beautiful, though, Clary. If I were straight, I would totally tap that ass."

I felt blood rise to my cheeks as I said my thanks.

I went to my bathroom, trying to sneak out into the hall in my thongs, but what with the way that they _whack_ed against the floor, my position was given away quickly.

I heard a wolf-whistle and cringed, not daring to look back I scurried to my bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I tucked my hair up into a messy bun, letting a few strands fall around my face, framing it nicely. I grabbed my blue eye shadow and black mascara before heading to the strawberry lip-gloss. _Better idea: Take the whole case of makeup to Magnus and get him to help me out._

I shoved the three that I'd picked out back in the bag and ran down the hall to my bedroom, where I found Magnus squatting in my wardrobe, comparing one set of heels with another. "Um, I –"

"Shh, just a minute, Clary." I sat down on my bed, watching him. "Actually," he said, "let's just try them on. It's easier."

He moved across the room to sit in front of me and push the first pair of heels onto my feet.

When I stood he said, "Okay, nope. Next pair."

I sat back down and undid the buckles and slipped them of my feet, throwing them at my open wardrobe. "Don't do that!" he said, too loudly.

"Sorry," I cringed.

"No, I'm sorry. Anyway, these shoes." He, again, pushed them on my feet and they felt a little loose. "Can you walk in these?"

"Maybe if I grabbed my plastic pad-dy things."

Magnus just looked at me, "On my dresser."

He moved over to my dresser and spotting them, he grinned. "These will be perfect. And now," he added, "make-up!"

**JxC**

The first thing I noticed in the club was that there was no shortage of gay couples, or women for that matter, and _Jace_ was eyeing them all off.

I sat beside him at the bar now, I took a sip of my drink. "Didn't Magnus and Alec tell you not to flirt with every girl in sight? We'll get kicked out."

"Honestly, Clary, do you see me flirting with anyone right this minute?"

"Well, no." It was true, but he had been flirting with the bartender-girl barely moments before he starting eyeing the dancing girls like they were cakes in a bakery window – and he was suffering a serious case of I Haven't Eaten A Good Cake In Months disease.

He downed the rest of his drink in a gulp and looked over at me and smirked.

Then some blonde girl came up to him, actually _strutting_ her way over, though I noticed she stumbled a couple of times. Whether it was her heels or too many drinks, I'd probably never know.

"Hey hottie," she said, placing her hands on his thighs, stepping in between his spread legs. "You wanna ditch this place and go somewhere quiet?"

God, if she was subtle…

"Nah," he told her, "I'm good." She pouted and he gestured towards me with his thumb. "I'm actually here with my girlfriend."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I had to struggle to keep my composure. I supposed I better play along. I smiled sweetly at the girl, feeling my heart race.

She looked completely dejected, but she moved away, back to the dance floor to find some other idiot to have sex with.

"What the hell was that!" I hissed, swinging my legs around of my stool to face him.

"I didn't want to have sex with that girl – not hot enough. You were just a way out of it," he said, so off-handedly. No thank you or anything.

Though I'd already drank enough to make it illegal for me to ever _consider_ driving, I turned to the bartender, a cute brunette girl, barely twenty-one, and asked for a hard whiskey. "You sure, Miss?"

"Yes, thank you."

"I thought you said you weren't brilliant at holding your liquor."

"Maybe not," I said, as the girl passed me my drink. "But if I'm going to be stuck here with _you_ –"

"What happened to boss-type language?"

"– then I may as well enjoy it, alright?" And then I downed the whiskey in a gulp, feeling it burn, I had to really try not to splutter.

"If you say so," he said, with a shrug. I felt the alcohol burn through my system, slowly flaming. He got up to go and dance and I followed him, staying close until I lost him in the crowd.

"Hey, baby," a tall sweaty-looking guy said to me, planting his hands on my hips. He was _kind of_ cute.

"Hi," I said back, feeling bodies push against me, I let the music lead my body. It wasn't long before I had a little groove going, dancing with Mr. Tall, Sweaty and Kind Of Cute.

After a few songs his hands were all over my body, moving down my thighs – which creeped me out a little, but my drunken mind didn't seem to care – and then grazing just under my breasts – which creeped me out a _lot_; my drunken mind _did_ care about that one.

"Parlez vous Français?" he asked, a near-whisper in my ear.

"Um, oui?"

"S'il vous plaît, ma chérie, allee tombez la chemise."

"No," I said, giving him a shove, trying to get him out of my space. "No. No!"

I looked up at Mr. Tall Sweaty and Kind Of Cute and pleaded with my eyes. I didn't want to have sex with someone I didn't even know – it may have been his style, but it sure as hell wasn't mine. Even in my alcohol-induced state I was sure of that.

"Come on, baby. Let's go somewhere. Quiet. I promise you'll enjoy it."

His clammy, big hands were on my hips again, pulling me against his body, making his boner press into my stomach.

"No, I – I don't want to."

"You don't sound so sure, baby."

"Get away from me!" I yelled, shoving backwards and away from him, but I could barely hear my own voice over the bass pounding in my ears.

I didn't even get two steps away before his hands were on my shoulders again, his boring brown eyes boring into my skull.

I stepped back again, or tried to, only to bump into another body, so much taller than me, even in my heels. I felt so short, just then. So short, so incapable, so, so… _vulnerable._

I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind, some other man's hard-on pressing into my back. "Oh, fuck." I whispered.

"Shhh, honey. It's me, Jace."

The man who I'd been dancing with shot me a glare, "Who the hell are you?" he yelled at Jace.

"I don't believe that's any of your business, man. Now get out of my girlfriend's fucking space, alright?"

"Girlfriend?" he laughed. "She came onto me!"

I felt my eyes slip closed, so I forced them open again.

"Yeah, right. Come on, honey. We're leaving this hell hole."

When Jace got me outside onto the street he put his hands on his shoulders and shook me. "Are you fucking insane? Getting drunk like that, and then dancing with that _demon_ of a man! It was like you were begging to be rescued." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "And I was _so_ going to get laid tonight too."

"I'm sorry," I said, holding my hands to my face. "I didn't mean to – I'm such an idiot." I felt tears slip down my cheeks, and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes.

Jace was quiet for a moment and my world was silent, the noise of New York City just dropped out of the world.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring Clary to Pandemonium." Another voice said – Magnus? – I was too far gone to be able to really tell.

Yet another voice joined in, Alec, I guessed. "It probably wasn't. You know Pandemonium is full of demon-like guys."

"Like Jace," Magnus said.

"Yeah, just like Jace. But right now, we should get Clary home. And _you_," I took my hands from my eyes and watched Alec point at Magnus, "can make Clary one of those concoctions that stops your hangover from being so bad."

"I can go home," I told them, but my voice, which was supposed to sound strong, came out wavering. I wrapped my arms around my stomach carefully, hoping I wouldn't puke.

"Honey," Magnus' voice was calm, sweet, "I think you'd feel much better if there was at least _someone_ there to hold your hair back while you throw up, right?"

I didn't have the power in me to nod, I felt so out of it.

"Come on," Jace murmured as I watched Magnus tuck his hand around Alec's hand subtly, and I wished that I had a similar relationship with someone, someone who loved me. "We'll get you home. You can sleep in my bed."

I groaned when Jace wrapped his arm around my waist. "I could go to Isabelle's," I told him.

"Clary, don't be silly. I – I shouldn't have brought you here anyway. By the Angel's name, I'm an idiot. You're an employee. _Fuck_."

"It wasn't your fault," I whispered, letting my body lean into his, feeling my dress rise and fall with every step.

Jace didn't respond, so I contented myself with focusing on the sound of his even breath, and trying not to throw up on the street.

When we made it into the lift, I figured that Alec and Magnus were way ahead of us, since we'd had to stop so that I could take my heels off, because I kept almost falling over, and being caught by Jace.

I wanted to sit down in the corner and curl up and die of embarrassment. "Maybe you and Izzy should go shopping another Saturday," he said, out of the blue.

"What?" I said.

"Izzy wanted to meet you at yours nine sharp to go shopping, tomorrow morning. Remember?"

I didn't, remember, that is, but it sounded painful, I groaned.

"Come on. We're here now."

I almost tripped on the way out of the lift, but Jace wrapped his arm tight around my waist and helped me into his _penthouse_.

The penthouse was quiet, until I listened really hard, and I noticed that I could hear laboured breathing – _and a moan?_ – coming from the lounge area.

"What's –"

_"Shhhh!"_ Jace replied, quiet as a mouse, before ushering me quickly into his bedroom. He closed the door behind us and turned the light on in his apparent walk-in wardrobe, closing the door halfway so that the room was lit, but not enough to completely murder my eyes.

I sat down on the edge of his bed and let my mind ponder how much of an idiot I was.

Huge. I was an enormous, fucking giant idiot. Jace sat down beside me.

"You know what," I said, the randomest thing popping into my head.

"What?" Jace asked, though I was sure he was just humouring me, I continued anyway.

"It's weird, how some Christmas carols are really happy, and then some are kind of sad. Even though, Christmas is supposed to be the 'happiest time of the year'."

I watched Jace's face in the dim light as he considered this. Obviously he was still in a sane state of mind. "Do you want a shower?"

"Does it help?"

"Sometimes."

"I think I'll be okay," I said. "I just want to –" as if my mind wanted to prove my point, I couldn't help but yawn – "sleep."

"Well," he said, "you don't want to sleep in that dress, right?"

I felt some of my senses come back. "I am _not_ sleeping in _your_ bed _naked_."

He shook his head, holding up his palms. "As much as I would love to have a woman in my bed naked right this minute, that's not what I was suggesting." He stood up and went into his wardrobe. He came back mere moments later with a dark blue button up shirt in his hands. "Here, you can use this, alright? Go and get changed in my en suite."

"Um," was all I said as I took the shirt from his hands and went into his bathroom. I turned on the lights and closed the door, locking it behind me.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Clearly, I needed to buy some waterproof mascara. I wasn't usually a teary drunk, I knew that. I was usually the sensible drunk, the one who carried her friends home, but something had thrown me off tonight. I didn't know whether it was Mr. Tall, Sweaty and Kind Of Cute or Pandemonium or just Jace Wayland.

On the whole, after starting the night looking so nice, I now looked pretty crap.

I washed the makeup off of my face and pulled my hair out, letting it fall around my face.

I pulled my dress over my head, looking at my simple beige bra and white boyshorts. Maybe as a twenty-three year-old, I should be wearing 'sexier' underwear, but I didn't see the pleasure in that. Still.

I pulled off my bra and slipped Jace's shirt around my body, doing up almost all of the buttons. I could only hope that it wouldn't ride up to expose more of me than I really wanted Jace to see.

_There was the sensible drunk in me coming out._

"Um," I peeked my head out around the door, looking for Wayland. "Jace? I need a coat hanger for my dress."

He groaned – from where? I wasn't quite sure. "Can't you just leave it on the floor?"

"No," I told him. "It'll crinkle."

"God, you're just like a sober Alec. Just borrow one from my wardrobe, alright?"

_Okay,_ I thought, feeling my way along the wall to his wardrobe, I pushed the door open and left my dress on a coat hanger.

When I went back into his room, I walked straight until I hit the edge of the bed and felt my balance disappear as I fell, I shoved my hands out and stopped myself from face-planting and losing what was left of my pride.

"Come on," he said, patting the bed beside him.

"Um."

"Clary, really –"

I felt my stomach heave and covered my hand over my mouth.

"Clary, what are you –"

I decided that running to the bathroom was a better idea than throwing up on Jace's bed so that was what I did. I ran, almost managing to trip in my drunken haze and held my hands on the toilet seat as my stomach tried to rid my body of its comments. About a minute later, as Magnus had promised, Jace entered the small en suite. He pulled my hair up in his hands and squatted beside me. He didn't turn the light on, and I was glad. I didn't want to see my vomit, smelling it was bad enough.

When I felt the dry heaves coming, Jace made sure all of my hair stayed on my back and moved to the sink. I wasn't sure what he was doing until he squatted back down beside me and passed me a glass of water. "Drink this," he ordered. "I'll get you some ice-cubes."

I took the glass and downed in it in a couple of gulps, and pressed my head to the tiled wall, trying to cool my body down.

I opened my eyes when Jace returned. "Do you think you'll throw up again?"

I shook my head.

"I'll get you a bucket from the laundry anyway, and a couple of towels. Just go and lay in bed, okay? And turn the bedside lamp on."

When Jace walked out, I stood and followed after him, holding onto the wall for as long as I could.

I managed to get my body lying down on the bed; I sucked on one of the ice-cubes until it disappeared, and by then Jace was back.

"You need to get under the covers," he said. I did as he said, no questions asked. Obviously he knew how to deal with this. He slipped a towel on the pillow and over the top of the covers where I was lying, and then he placed a bucket beside the bed. "I'm sure you know what the bucket's for." I nodded meekly. "I'll go and sleep on the couch, you'll be okay?"

My mind collapsed into stupid worries. I chewed on my lip. I didn't _want_ to _depend_ upon him – he'd probably hold it against me forever – but I couldn't be _alone_.

I threw my pride out the window – for about the millionth time that night.

"No." I told him. "Can't you stay?"

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **_**The Mortal Instruments**_**. And to steal what another FFer said, if I did own **_**TMI**_**, I would not be writing fanfiction.**

_Australian words:_

Thongs:_ I don't care what you might call 'thongs'. Thongs are 'flip-flops'. Thongs are not G-strings. I refuse to call them 'flip-flops' – that word makes me want to cry. Cleared that up? Good.  
_Wardrobe:_ Do you say that in America, or do you say closet? Because closet sounds a little bit retarded to me (and no doubt I'd confuse it with closest)._

_I would also like to point out that when Mr. Tall, Sweaty and Kind Of Cute starts speaking in French, I am quoting from the Art Vs. Science song "Parlez Vouz Français". YouTube it. It's incredible (even if the video clip is _très_ weird)._

_(Also, I apologise for any grammatical/spelling errors - I've edited this a few times, but I could not be bothered going through that one last time.)  
_

_Love you guys!_

_~Maisy :) x_


	6. Chapter FIVE

**Remember, this is the chapter where I upped the rating from 'T' to 'M' in what I think is a good reason. Do you agree?**

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"I'll go and sleep on the couch, you'll be okay?"

My mind collapsed into stupid worries. I chewed on my lip. I didn't _want_ to _depend_ upon him – he'd probably hold it against me forever – but I couldn't be _alone_.

I threw my pride out the window – for about the millionth time that night.

"No." I told him. "Can't you stay?"

**JxC**

**Chapter FIVE**

_Friday 10th December_

I crept back to my bed quietly. It was probably wrong. All of this. I'd been trying to avoid interacting with _Miss Clarissa Fairchild_ as much as I could – which was incredibly difficult, _for obvious reasons_. Whilst I'd promised her parents, because I owed them this – especially her father, who'd helped me with building up my company – I was pretty sure that, well, _liking_ their daughter was not part of the deal.

I'd never really _liked_ any woman before.

I liked to get them naked and into bed.

Pleasure them and let them pleasure me – they came to me in the hundreds. Then I'd rarely see them again.

Aline had been the exception in that case; she was a demanding woman. And eventually, she got boring so I cut her off; Aline was a crap PA anyway. She was demoted.

And therefore, I needed a new personal assistant.

I ran a hand through my hair as I let my body fall onto my bed.

The bed that Aline had been laying in – with me, of course – only hours before, now held a woman that _I_, Jace Wayland, _liked_. I was going crazy.

I couldn't _like_ someone.

I relaxed – or tried to – not burying myself under the covers like I usually did, but instead lying atop them, since lying beneath my doona would be way off any kind of Employer-Employee rules.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," I replied. Normally, I said, 'My pleasure' but on the whole, I never really took pleasure in listening to the sound of a woman throwing up while I held her bright red hair. And I didn't want to _lie_ to _her_.

I didn't know why I wanted to look after her.

There was something about her just – _I don't even know_ – it made me want to protect her from anything the world could throw at her. But it was just plain wrong, weird, so I kept my 'feelings' to myself.

And really, I'd only taken care of her, looked after her, because it sucked to be alone when you had to deal with the crap that anyone got from being drunk. Or at least, that's what I was telling myself. I knew enough about it to know that I definitely preferred having someone to look out for me – even if it was only ever Alec. We were what we had dubbed as kids, _Parabatai_; we were like soul mates, but best friends. We always had each others' backs.

"Jace?" she whispered, rolling over to face me instead of the wall, her red hair falling over her face.

"Yes, Clary?" I whispered back, looking her in the eyes.

_Angel, this was such a stupid mistake. She was my PA for fucks sake!_

"I – can you –"

I just listened, waited for her to finish her sentence.

"Um, I – well." She was drunk. She'd be hungover in the morning. I shouldn't kiss her and I definitely wouldn't have sex with her.

"I'm not a mind reader," I said. Maybe I was being too harsh?

She lifted her arm above the doona and grabbed onto my hand with hers.

Her palm was too small to grip around mine so I forced her to let go, watching her face drop: disappointment. She was drunk. I wrapped my hand around hers instead and her face lit up – _she was drunk_, not in love with me.

_Get a grip, Wayland._

_Wait, wait, wait! Back up a bit! Why _would _I _want _her to be _in love _with me?_

_Stuff that shit._

"Jace, _please_." Maybe she had issues… I moved closer to where she lay until there was barely ten centimetres between us. "I'm cold," she said. "Jace, I'm cold."

She sounded so pleading. And how much was there that I could do?

I'd already held her hair back as she vomited her stomach clean, brought her water and ice-cubes. Hell, I practically carried her home. "You want me to get under the covers," I said.

She nodded and I let go of her hand. I sat up and pulled my undershirt over my head, leaving me in boxers and nothing else.

Which was a hell of a lot more than I wore around most women who ever came into my bedroom.

I got myself underneath the covers, with my personal assistant. By the Angel, Raziel, this was screwed up.

She moved close to me, wrapping an arm around my back, holding herself as close to me as she could.

It was such a strange feeling, such a strange moment, to have a woman wrapped in my arms, who I didn't _intend_ to have sex with. A woman who I _liked_.

Hesitantly, I wrapped my arm around her back too.

"No," she said suddenly. "I –"

She moved her arm, tucking it into her side; she rolled over so that her back was pressed against my chest.

_Great. Just great. Now I'm spooning my PA. This is worse than having sex with Aline._

My arm was still rested over her, and she grasped it with her hands and brought it up to her chest, hugging it.

_Hugging._

_ My._

_ Arm._

I had seriously let this go too far.

_Even if I _was _secretly enjoying it – _so, so much.

**JxC**

_Saturday 11th December_

I managed to fall asleep, even with _Clary_'s ass pressed into my hips. Honestly, I was proud that I hadn't woken with a boner.

It was a restless sleep though, which was crazy since normally I slept like a log. I put it off to the fact that Clary was just about the biggest wriggler ever, though.

None of my previous sexual partners – or anyone who'd ever laid in my bed, not even Isabelle – had ever wriggled as much as this woman seemed to.

When I woke, it was well past nine in the morning, nearing ten, really, and Clary was still sleeping. _In my arms._

Clarissa Fairchild. Though I'd known her best as Clarissa Morgenstern. She'd probably not remembered me – I'd seen no sign of recognition in her eyes.

Her brother and I had been on the same football team in high school.

I'd only met her a couple of times, both when Jonathon had been getting a lift over to come and practice and Clary had been on her way to go and do some shopping or, I dunno, ballet? I didn't really know. I'd always gone out to greet Jonathon and then he'd introduced his sister, Clarissa Morgenstern.

Still, I'd known who she was.

And she hadn't known what our connection was.

She thrashed again, kicking me in the shin, but keeping my arm pressed tight in between her breasts, which was really enough to turn me on.

I felt non-existent boner suddenly become existent.

And then she rubbed her ass into my crotch.

I _had_ to get out of bed and deal with this.

I tried to get her to release my arm – a death-grip she had, I had no idea where she'd gotten that strength from – but she didn't ease up. Instead, she crushed my fingers in hers and brought my hand lower down her body, trailing down her side.

She exhaled in a sigh, a breathy sigh that was usually related to sexual attraction. She couldn't be – actually, that was a lie. Most women were attracted to me, flocked to me, it would make sense that she thought I was sexy too. But this was taking it too far.

I ripped my hand out of hers before any of this could go too far.

I jumped out of bed, and practically ran into my en suite and turned the shower on. I stripped and jumped under the freezing cold water. But my boner would just not go away.

"Oh fuck," I muttered, resting a palm on the tiled wall.

As a last resort – hell, it was always my last resort – I thought about Alec and Mag going at it; it was _never_ a pretty picture that my mind conjured up, but it still wasn't working.

I turned the water on further, this time touching the hot tap up until my skin was almost burning.

There was only one way to deal with this.

**JxC**

When I got out of my bathroom, my towel hung around my hips, covering my amazing manly parts, Clary was staring at me.

"Panadol," she whispered.

I walked over to my bed and stood beside her, watching. I placed my palms in front of her and leaned down. "Sleep well?"

"Um – yes." I smirked as I watched the blood rise to her cheeks. _I thought as much. A sex dream, probably about me._ "Your bed is quite comfortable."

I wondered how much she remembered.

"Get up, alright? Have a shower if you like. I'll get you that Panadol. Just meet me out in the living room."

She nodded and I went into my wardrobe.

I pulled on a pair of jeans and wrapped my towel around my shoulders before heading out into the living room.

I saw Mag sitting on the sofa, watching TV as if he lived here.

"Comfy?" I asked and he grinned.

"Just like home," he winked. "By the way, you're looking _nice_."

"As always," I laughed, and spotted Alec in the kitchen making breakfast.

When our eyes locked he just rolled his. I grinned and walked into the kitchen, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.

"I would ask if you two had fun last night, but I don't even wanna know."

"Oh, right. Sorry about that," Mag offered from the sofa. "I'll make you kids some of Magnus' Magical Hangover Juice."

"I reckon Clary'd love that one. That reminds me. Panadol."

"Panadol?" Alec asked.

"Clary wants some."

"Of course. Because you always look after people."

"I look after you. Or I used to, before Mag happened into your life."

I searched through the cupboard for Panadol, finding a packet in one of our mugs. "There we go."

"Seriously," Alec said, "it's unlike you."

"Well, maybe I just want to make a good impression on my PA."

"By getting her drunk and letting her almost dance her way into a rape case before stealing her home and sleeping with her."

"We did not have sex," I said. And I realised I sounded defensive. God, I was turning into an idiot. _Liking_ some woman!

"Um." It was the one female voice that I didn't need to hear right now.

"Good morning, darl," Magnus said. "Did you sleep okay? Jace can be a bit of a doona-hogger."

"I slept fine," she replied, the blush rising to her cheeks again. I smirked at her. "Thank you, Magnus."

"I'll get you my favourite cure for a hangover."

"There is no cure for a hangover," she told him, collapsing beside him on the couch.

"Yeah, but you're not me," he laughed, staring at the television, watching the morning news.

I looked at her more closely, she hadn't put on any clothes since getting out of bed. She was still just wearing my dark blue button down shirt and her own plain white boyshort panties. Even though both of the other men in the apartment were gay, and probably not even eyeing her off, I wanted to tell her to cover up.

Which was crazy, because usually I was telling women to throw their clothes to the floor.

I just let it drop to the back of my mind. It wasn't important.

It was only Alec and Mag. And they had eyes only for each other and all that crap. Sometimes it made me sick.

"Jace," Clary said, her voice pleading. Apparently she didn't care – or maybe know – that I had a reputation to uphold as aloof and emotionless, a lover of only sex. Maybe it was sad, but it was true. It was all that I knew how to be. "Panadol. _Please…_"

Fuck. "Yeah, yeah. Hang on a minute."

I grabbed a glass and filled it with water before heading over and giving her the tablet and the glass.

I watched as she placed the tablet in her mouth and swallowed it with the aid of water, before gulping down the rest of it down too.

"Hungry? Alec's making pancakes." Magnus said to Clary as I sat down on the matching armchair.

"Oh, yes. Please. If you don't mind, Alec."

She was too polite.

Even for a girl.

She looked out the window, seeming barely there.

"Hey Maggie," Alec said. "Breakfast in bed?"

I smiled on the inside. It was rare when Alec showed any true affection for his boyfriend, and even though I wasn't for that kind of stuff – I doubted I ever would be – but I knew that Magnus loved it.

"I'm game," Magnus said, jumping up from the couch and almost skipping into Alec's bedroom. "See you later, Clare-bear, Jacey."

"Angel, with the nickname, Mag!" I near-yelled. He _knew_ I hated that nickname!

Clary didn't even seem to hear him, so I placed a hand on her thigh, probably higher than she would prefer.

Her head snapped around and her eyes met mine, "Hands off!" she shouted before she slapped a hand to her mouth – obviously she hadn't expected her own voice to sound so harsh.

Still, I didn't move my hand. I just smirked at her.

"Jace," Alec said warningly. "I'm still here. I don't care if you get it on with your PA, but at least do it in your bedroom."

I winked at Clary, "You game?"

She honestly, and true to the Angel, looked disgusted. Which was quite a first for me.

Alec made his way to his bedroom, where no doubt Mag was waiting. Then just before he closed the door he turned to us and spoke, "There's pancakes on the bench. Eat them if you like."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving him off with the hand that I'd had on Clary's leg.

"Thanks a heap," Clary said, brushing off her leg as if it would remove any traces I'd left there.

"Oh, come on," I said, "you _have _to admit that you're attracted to me."

"I might be," she said, which surprised me. I wasn't really expecting an answer from her. "But that cocky attitude is a _total_ turn-off."

"Nah, you secretly love it, _Clary_."

Apparently she decided to change the subject. "When we get back to the real world, are you still going to call me that?"

"That depends. Are you still going to call me 'Jace'?"

"Can't you just give me a straight answer? Stop answering questions with questions. Isabelle told me that you do it _all_ the time!"

"Are you always like this?"

"Oh my God!" she _actually_ threw her arms up in the air in exasperation.

I smirked, and raised an eyebrow.

She pulled my shirt down her legs, trying to cover more than she could, but it only pulled down at the top, exposing the tops of her almost non-existent breasts.

"That's a nice look for you," I told her.

"Ugh!" she stood up and stomped to the kitchen.

_By the Angel, women and their mood swings!_

She plated some pancakes and started shoveling them into her mouth in an incredibly unladylike way. "I'm going home!"

"Dressed like that," I said, "really?"

"Oh, shut up!"

"What happened to not boss-employee etiquette?"

"You know what, _Jace_, I'm not sure that I care!"

She dashed past me on the couch and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I decided that I'd give her a minute.

Alec and Mag were probably too distracted feeding each other to even notice the slamming door.

I stood and went to my door, opening it quietly and peeking in to my room. If there was anything I would not do, it would be to tell her I was sorry. I wasn't sorry, so there was no point in lying. But she seemed like the kind of girl who just expected that type of sorry.

"Go away, Jace," she whimpered from where she lay, in the middle of my bed.

"I can't, Clary," I told her, which was probably a little bit too truthful.

"Please."

_Far out with the pleading! It made her sound weak._

I sat down on the edge of my bed and reached for her hand.

When her hand touched mine, I pulled her over, and she moved so that she sat beside me, her feet not touching the floor.

"Why?" she said, her hand still wrapped in mine. It almost felt too intimate.

"Why what?"

"Why did you do all of this? Why not just take me home?"

"This is easier, and I don't want your brain to still be fried on Monday morning." What I told her was kind of the truth, it had been easier, and I didn't want her brain to be fried on Monday morning, but it was more than that. I wanted to see what it would be like, just for a few measly hours, to look after the woman who had captured what may have possibly been my first _crush_ and hopefully, I would get over it, and never feel it again. Maybe I'd have sex with her, to get rid of the crush...hmm.

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed.

I didn't say anything, I just looked out the window – she'd obviously opened the blinds when she got up. She leaned her head on my shoulder.

"Thank you, anyway. I –" she broke off, leaving her sentence unfinished.

"You what?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "Thank you doesn't really seem like enough. And I don't know how else I could fix this whole –"

Without thinking at all, I said: "_Kiss me._"

She didn't look as totally horrified as she had before, and I took that as a good sign. "I'm not really sure that that's a good idea, Jace. You're my boss."

"Yeah, and?"

She seemed to contemplate it. And then, honestly, much to my surprise, she leant in and pressed her cute little lips against mine, as if she expected that it would just be a peck.

I turned my body and pulled her face to mine properly. The way that her lips moved against mine made it damn hard to not rip off all of our clothes, to have sex with her, just to see what it would be like. I just _had_ to have more of her. She didn't resist in the slightest, instead wrapping her arms around my neck, one of her hands moving into my hair.

I broke our lips apart, though only for a moment, and pushed her back so that she was lying on her back and moved so that my calves pressed hers together. I leant over her and our lips met again, fast and furious.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Mortal Instruments_. And to steal what another FFer said, if I did own _TMI_, I would not be writing fanfiction.**

_Hi guys :)!_

_In case you didn't realise – I think you'd have to be a bit dense not to catch on – this chapter was in Jace's POV. So this goes out to you, figureskater1589!_

_Australian words:_

Doona: _I'm not actually sure if this is an Australian word, but my computer says that it is incorrect, yet I've called doonas 'doonas' all my life. It's kind of like a 'comforter' from what I know, but thicker. If you don't understand, Google it or something. (Doona-hogger: one who steals all of the blankets onto their side of the bed, no matter how much you tug them back.)_

_Oh, and I must apologise for the utter OOCness of this situation. I leant my books to my Aunty, so I don't have a reference. And I've only read them through once (pretty poor, considering _TMI_ is pretty much my favourite series). Are you guys excited for the City of Bones movie? I know I am! Anyway that was a bit of a cliffie._

**THE MASSIVELY IMPORTANT PART THAT YOU MUST READ, EVEN IF YOU DON'T READ THE REST OF MY A/N:**  
_I know you guys may hate me for this, but after this week's update (an early one, to make you all happy), I will be going on a two-week hiatus. (I may double-post when I return, but I have exams. And I really don't want to be mucking around with fanfiction when my TER (tertiary entrance rank) is on the line. I'd just like to thank my favourite people (my reviewers, no less): _**Krys516, Ri-nocemoose, midgemidge, TheaterofTragery, SimplyLily94, kew12, TaylorZachary, runemagic, Melissa Ray, smileysgoboing, mounika0329, Booky14addict, Golden-Iris158, figureskater1589, Babie.13, .Girl, waylandfan01, Jasper's Southern Girl, meathxxx, Omygosh & BoulderGirl1059!**_ (If you're not listed here, you haven't reviewed so far, so get your beautiful little butt to it :)!)  
_

_Love you guys!_

_~Maisy :) x_**  
**


	7. Chapter SIX

_So I was aiming for a 24/11/2010 (that's dd/mm/yy) update – and I'm late (what a surprise! *rolls eyes*), but still here nonetheless! Happy reading, guys!_

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

She seemed to contemplate it. And then, honestly, much to my surprise, she leant in and pressed her cute little lips against mine, as if she expected that it would just be a peck.

I turned my body and pulled her face to mine properly, moving my lips against hers. I just _had_ to have more of her. She didn't resist in the slightest, instead wrapping her arms around my neck, one of her hands moving into my hair.

I broke our lips apart, though only for a moment, and pushed her back so that she was lying on her back and moved so that my calves pressed hers together. I leant over her and our lips met again, fast and furious.

**JxC**

**Chapter SIX**

_Monday 13th December_

I couldn't believe what I'd done on Saturday morning, some time after eleven. I had kissed my boss, Jace Wayland, firm on the mouth – on his fucking gorgeous lips. Truly, I'd been going for just a peck after he suggested that I kiss him to say thank you for saving me from what could have been one of the worst nights of my life. As well as the killer hangover that I was sure was supposed to follow; Magnus hadn't even had time to make me his special concoction for hangovers.

Though the main reason why Magnus hadn't had the time was because as soon as I had control of my mind, I'd gotten my little ass out of that building and run back home.

Now, it was Monday morning, and I had to get to work.

And just when I thought that kissing Jace Wayland was enough bad karma points for me…

One) I'd gotten my period sometime whilst I was sleeping. (The worst way ever to start any day, I was absolutely certain.)

Two) My car had broken down.

Three) My shower was only spouting cold water.

Oh, and I kissed my boss when I was hungover after going out clubbing with him, his best friend and his best friend's boyfriend – who also worked at the same building as me.

In short, sore stomach, crappy mood, I'd have to get the train to work, and I hadn't been able to soak in warm water to rid myself of the gross feeling that was left behind from my period.

Plus, Isabelle was totally pissed at me for ditching out on her shopping day.

Of course, I swore I would go next Saturday.

And she promised that she would help me buy some good clubbing dresses and shoes – because it was 'stupid' that Magnus had had to 'murder-slash-rape' one of my maxi dresses, which she'd apparently 'loved'. And I hadn't exactly told her about the kissing Jace Wayland part.

And I didn't plan on it.

I just hoped that Wayland hadn't told her.

**JxC**

I sent a text message to Wayland, telling him that I had become subject to the public transport system and that I would probably be late.

He called my mobile barely seconds after my text and told me to not bother getting on the train. "Meet me at the corner by the station in five, I'll pick you up."

_Awkwardness._

_ To._

_ The._

_ Max._

I waited for a car to stop beside the road – since I had no idea what his car looked like. I just figured it would be expensive.

And how right I was.

I had no idea what make of car it was – and nor did I care to know – but it was black, shiny and new-looking. And when Wayland pushed the door open and smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but it felt so…so _fake_.

"You alright?" he said.

"Honestly, no."

I expected a 'How come?' and maybe I was stupid for wanting him to ask. Because he didn't ask. And I didn't say anymore; it was useless, when he obviously didn't care.

Just when we were pulling into the office car park, he finally spoke. "Why aren't you alright?"

"Because I've had the absolute crappiest morning, truly."

"A not working car tends to ruin a morning. Maybe we should ride to work together more often, save petrol."

I really didn't want to. But how could I pass up? Petrol was one of my biggest expenses. And it was going to cost a huge amount of money to even get my car fixed anyway, I was sure. "Maybe," I agreed as we got out of his car.

"It's still early," he said. And he was right, since I had left home early so that I wouldn't be too late to work. "Izzy's usually in by now, you could go and visit her. I want you at my office by half-past, though. Okay?"

"Um, sure. Thank you, Mr. Way—"

"Jace," he said. "I think we've been past formalities, Clary."

"Oh – well, yes." _What with the puking, and the kissing, and the sleeping in the same bed._

**JxC**

I got off the elevator on the tenth floor and went looking for Isabelle's desk.

"Clarissa Fairchild!" she all but yelled before I'd even spotted her. "Get your skinny ass over here right this minute!"

I scurried over; I didn't want to make a scene, though a few other workers were already staring.

"You're here hell early, you know," she said, more quietly now. "Did you get a lift or something? I got your text. I was worried. The subway can be killer in the morning!"

"I'm sorry," I told her, stealing someone's spinny chair and wheeling it over, I sat down, stretching out my legs. "I got a lift, yeah."

"I'm glad. I swear there are rapists and murderers that just live on those trains, waiting for beautiful girls to abduct." I didn't quite know what to say to that, so I just stared at nothing. "So," she said, and I turned my attention to her. "Who'd you get a lift with?"

"Um, just a –" _friend_, my ass! "– well, Jace."

Her face scrunched up. "I hate riding with him – I've done it often enough, too! He doesn't talk, at all. It annoys me so much! I mean, he doesn't even turn the radio on or music or anything. It's silence, apart from the sounds of the city."

"I didn't really notice," I told her. It was true, I hadn't.

We chatted away for another fifteen minutes until it was almost half-past when I announced that I should probably head up to my floor.

She scowled. "Jace won't care that much. It's just me, after all."

"Yeah, but he told me to be up there at eight-thirty. I think he wants me to do some work."

"_Work schmerk_," she told me. "I never do any."

"Really?" I said, trying to raise an eyebrow. "I never would have guessed." I smiled at her sweetly. "_Anyway_ I really should be going. I'll see you at lunchtime, maybe?"

"Yeah, of course, Clary."

**JxC**

"Clary, could you come in here please?" I got up from my desk and walked into his office, only to see a shirtless man standing beside Wayland's desk – it took me a beat too long to realise that it was made of cardboard. "Don't stare," he told me. "And you could make me a coffee."

"Of course, Mr. – uh, Jace." I headed over to the coffee machine and did as I was told before turning back to face him and the cardboard cut-out man – who was _hot_ by the way.

"This is one of our models," he said, running his finger over the edge of the cardboard, admiring his _work_. _Work, work, work. It's _work_ not just some _super hot_ cardboard cut-out of a guy in Wayland's office._

"Really," I said, though I thought it was obvious. "Which campaign is he in?"

"He's currently the face of our _Men_ range." I knew the slogan; I'd heard it so many times on the television at my mother's house, _Men. For men. Made by men_, but in a really manly voiceover.

The machine _ding_ed and I took Wayland his coffee. "Here you go."

"_Jace_," he said. "I have a name, you know, _Clary_."

"Sorry, Jace. It's just weird."

He sighed.

"Was there anything else I could do?"

"Could you call Aline up here for me," he said, looking bored. "I have to talk to her."

"Right away, Jace."

And I realised that calling him by his first name made me feel like I was his personal slave, not his personal assistant.

"Oh, and one last thing? Pick up my dry-cleaning? The address and order number are in an email I sent you just a minute ago."

**JxC**

When Aline finally arrived at the 39th floor, I watched her strut over to Jace's office before grinning at me and walking in.

I watched my screensaver play until I heard the doors start to rattle a little.

I almost stood up to go and see what was happening, but then I realised that I probably didn't want to know.

A.K.A. they were probably having sex. Up against the door. _Lovely._

I decided that I would take the moment to go and find Simon's desk, since Jace probably wouldn't need my assistance – or slavery – anytime soon.

It took me a while, and a flight of stairs, before I actually found out what Simon did in this building.

"Ah," Simon smiled when he spotted me. "A surprise visit, hey?" he stood up and hugged me as I approached.

"I didn't realise you worked in the I.T. department."

"Well, I do," he sat back down in his spinny chair and glanced over the top of his cubicle to an office. I sat on the edge of his desk, feeling much more content here than I had been moments ago. "So what brings you down here?"

I groaned. "You don't even wanna know, trust me."

"Ah," he said. "I get it." I nodded and covered my face with my hands. "Aline?" I nodded again.

"He even asked me to call her up and everything!"

"Mr. Lewis," a voice boomed. "Is that you I see not doing work?"

"Uh-oh," I said, smiling. "I suppose I should head up and not get you into trouble, hey. I'd ask you to hang out at lunch, but I'm already going out with Isabelle."

"Isabelle Lightwood?" Simon asked under his breath.

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"God," he said.

"_Mr. Lewis!_"

"I'll tell you later, alright? Call me or something."

"Sure thing," I said, scurrying past all ten of the I.T. guys and back up the emergency stairwell to my desk.

I thought about knocking on the door, which had now quieted, but I decided I should probably wait at least fifteen minutes. I headed to the bathroom, instead.

As soon as I stepped inside a glowing Aline Penhallow, who looked a tiny bit teary-eyed, greeted my eyes. _Tears of happiness, perhaps?_

"Miss Fairchild," she said, "you'd disappeared when I came out."

"I remembered that I had something to do," I said. "I'd been having some trouble with one of my thumbdrives. I took it downstairs to get it fixed." _Total lie, of course._

"Oh really," she said, looking in the mirror and fixing up her lipstick.

I went into a cubicle and listened to the stupid noises that she made as soon put on her make-up. When I came out, I washed my hands and asked her if _Jace_ was going to be presentable.

And what did she say, but: "Fairchild, Jace is _always_ presentable."

I walked out, calm as you please, and then stalked to my desk, muttering, "God, what a slut," under my breath as I sat down.

Tempting as it was to just barge into Wayland's office, to see his bare chest again at least, I decided that that wasn't _quite_ employee standard behaviour.

But then again, neither was having sex with the CEO of a major corporation when you're only a front desk lady. _Or any employee for that matter._

I stood up and knocked on the door before entering.

Wayland was stretched out on the couch, his shirt completely unbuttoned and his pants barely on, the fly and button undone, looking totally sexually-sated, and then surprised as he realised it was me. "I suppose I should've known," he said, sitting up straight and doing up the buttons on his shirt. "Aline wouldn't have knocked."

"Yes, well. I just wanted to check that everything was okay."

"It was _sex_," he said. "And Aline is damn fine."

_Too. Much. Information!_* "Right, um. I was hoping that I would be able to take my lunch now. Isabelle and I were going to meet."

"I was planning on having lunch with you," he said, standing and doing up his pants. "But I guess I can have lunch with Aline instead."

"If you really want me to –"

"No, I'm good, thank you. Now leave me alone, take your lunch. Whatever."

"Thanks, Jace." I gave him a smile before heading out and grabbing my bag.

**JxC**

"Oh, Izzy," I said, as soon as I met her, finding her eyes tear-red, and her cheeks blotchy in the female bathroom on her floor – it _did_ take me much searching. I wrapped my arms around her and smoothed my hand up and down her back, knowing that the action usually calmed me down a bit, if nothing else.

"Clary!" she cried. "He – he _dumped_ me!"

"Who did?" I asked quietly, having near to no recollection of her ever mentioning a boyfriend.

"Meliorn!" she whimpered, pressing her face into my jacket.

"Hey, um. Do you want to go and get some comfort food? Chocolate cake or something?"

The idea seemed to cheer her up a whole lot. She pulled away from my hug and wiped her eyes. "Just give me a minute to fix my make-up."

When we got down to the closest McDonalds, Isabelle's favorite comfort food, a guilty pleasure, though she felt horrible afterwards.

She laughed aloud, hysterical, "Meliorn is such a stupid name!"

"It sure is," I said, smiling.

She took a tiny bite out of her Grand Angus and set it down on the paper wrapping. "You know, Clary," she said. "You and Jace would be, like, perfect together."

"What? No no no no no no no! No. Izzy, Jace is my _boss_."

"Jace is _everybody's_ boss, Clary."

I let her cool logic sink into my brain.

Then she added: "Because I heard about Saturday morning."

I covered my face with my palms. "That blabbing idiot!"

Izzy laughed. "It seems your problems may well be larger than mine."

"I'm glad my _problems_ entertain you, Miss Lightwood."

"Well, Miss Fairchild. That's life. You're doing a good job of distracting me."

"That's alright," I told her.

She sighed and nibbled on a chip. "Oh, Clary."

_Maybe,_ I realised, probably a few beats too late, _I should have been disgusted that Jace kissed me and was having sex with his not-quite-girlfriend barely two days later… Maybe I _was_ disgusted._

"You okay there, Clary?"

"Huh? Just thinking."

"About our Jacey-Wacey?"

I shot her a look and she grinned.

"I was right! I was right!" She smiled wider, if that were even possible. "What about him? Is this about that _ki_—"

"_Shhhh!_ We do not need random people knowing about this!"

"Whatever," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Plus," I said, adding further, possibly digging my hole deeper. "I wasn't thinking straight, I was hungover."

"You know what I think?" I shook my head. _I wasn't a fucking mind reader._ "I think that when you're drunk-slash-hungover, you're – and I mean everybody here – more yourself, like you let your guards down and stuff happens that wouldn't normally in real life if you were everything you wanted to be, I guess."

I smiled, and failed at raising an eyebrow, "That's pretty deep."

"Uh-huh. But it means that you secretly wanted to kiss Jace, whether it was conscious or subconscious."

I frowned; that couldn't possibly be true. Sure, Wayland was attractive as the sun is hot, but he was one of the most annoying, arrogant people I'd ever met.

**JxC**

When I arrived back at work, Aline wasn't glowing as much as she had been in the bathroom – maybe it'd been the lights? – so I walked up to her, smiling.

"Hello Miss Penhallow, how's life treatin' ya?"

She scowled, which I assumed meant that something hadn't quite gone her way. "Mr. Wayland," she told me, "said that this morning's escapade would be our last. _Over the telephone,_ Fairchild! _Over the fucking telephone!_"

I would've laughed, but she actually seemed to distressed, I couldn't help but offer words of should-be comfort. "I'm sure you'll find someone better than him. I heard that Sebastian Verlac in Communications was available. He's pretty good-looking."

She snuffled. "I didn't know he was. Available, that is."

"Well, that's what I heard," I said, before walking up to the elevators.

I pressed the button and waited, only to find none other than, Sebastian Verlac standing beside me.

It was true, what Isabelle had said, he was good-looking. His looks rivaled Jace's, he could have been one of the company's models if he so chose, I was certain.

When the elevator _ding_ed at us, he held his arm out, gesturing for me to walk in first.

"What floor?" I said as the doors closed.

"Twenty-two," he told me. "I'm Sebastian Verlac, by the way. You must be Clarissa Fairchild."

"God, has Mr. Wayland been spreading my photo around the building or something?" I muttered, mostly to myself, as I pressed in _22_ and _39_.

"Not quite," Sebastian Verlac said, "but Aline was demoted, and the whole building knows your _name_. Then there's the fact that we haven't hired anyone new in about two months. So it's kind of easy to spot you, I mean, who wouldn't've noticed _you_ before today? You stand out like a red poppy in a field of grass."

"Oh," I said. _Was that a compliment?_

"'Oh,'" he said, mimicking me. "I can't believe you told Penhallow that was I available! I don't want to go out with her, let alone have sex with her – which is all she's ever after."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling my face contort. I noticed we were only a few floors away from his.

"Oh well, it can't be helped. That Isabelle Lightwood is a sticky-beak – oh, here's my floor. I'll email you, okay?"

By the time his words had sunken into my mind, the doors were closing. And I had nineteen more floors to think about what exactly he'd said.

I sat down at my desk, concentrating on smoothing out every movement that I made – just for something to do, since Wayland probably didn't need me this exact—

My phone rang, the noise shrill, causing me to jump.

It was an outside number.

I picked up the phone, "Hello, Miss Fairchild speaking."

"Miss Fairchild?" a feminine voice said, "not Miss Penhallow?"

"No, ma'am. May I ask who you are?"

"Mrs. Herondale," she said. "Where is Aline?"

"Aline is working the –" my phone call was cut short, as Jace pressed one of those weird buttons on his phone and took my call for me.

"Fine then," I muttered to myself, watching my phone, waiting for Wayland to finish talking to Mrs. Herondale. _Pfft._

Then I remembered that Sebastian Verlac had said he would email me.

I checked my email, only to find about ten unread ones, which I spent the next half an hour replying to and-slash-or deleting them.

My phone beeped – _finally, _oh my God – to say that the call was finished.

I stood up, feeling the determination in my step as I walked towards Wayland's office door.

I didn't knock, I just opened the door, feeling it swing underneath my hands.

"Hey there. What's got your knickers in a knot?"

"Was I not doing a good enough job, answering your calls? Just because this is only my eleventh day working for you does not mean that I am incapable of –"

"Clary," he said, interrupting my rant. "Imogen Herondale is a…_personal_ friend of mine."

"So what," I snapped, "you're having sex with her?"

He just laughed. "God no. Not that it would matter to you anyway. It shouldn't matter to you."

I felt blush colour my cheeks.

I hated to lose any argument, any fight. But I knew that if I kept digging my hole, soon it would be so deep, I wouldn't be able to get out.

But Wayland was right.

_It shouldn't matter to me._

_ So why was there a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that it _did_ matter to me._

_

* * *

_

**DISCLAIMER: as usual, I don't own Clare's **_**The Mortal Instruments**_** series. But, well, I enjoy mucking around with the characters.  
**

_Australian words_

Petrol:_ Do you even say petrol? I think Americans say 'Gas' but hey. I like petrol better. Gas sounds too…American :P._

Mobile:_ I'm not sure on this one. But most books I read, they talk about 'cell phones'. (Pfft, cell phones.)  
_

Sticky-beak:_ A nosey person, a busybody. (An inquisitive and prying person, according to my dictionary.)_

Grand Angus:_ Do you have these burgers at your USA Maccas'?_

_My favourite line in this chapter would have to be: Sure, Wayland was attractive as the sun is hot…_

_(*See what I did there? 'Too Much Information/The Mortal Instruments' TMI ;).)_

_~Maisy :) x_


	8. Chapter SEVEN

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

I felt blush colour my cheeks.

I hated to lose any argument, any fight. But I knew that if I kept digging my hole, soon it would be so deep, I wouldn't be able to get out.

But Wayland was right.

_It shouldn't matter to me._

_ So why was there a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that it _did_ matter to me._

**JxC**

**Chapter SEVEN**

_Monday 13__th__ December_

Getting home, I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter and went straight for my fridge, popping open a bottle of my favourite bubbly. I poured a glass and leant against the counter and sipped on it quietly, letting my thoughts get to me.

Thinking about what Isabelle had said about _being perfect for Jace._

And thinking about what Jace said about how _it shouldn't matter to me._

My phone rang, the noise shrill and too loud in the silence of my apartment. I set my glass down and fumbled in my handbag to grab my mobile.

"Hello?" I said breathlessly.

"Hi Clary, this is Isabelle."

"Izzy," I said. "What's up?"

"D'you wanna come over for dinner? Have a chat."

"Well," I said, not quite feeling up to company. "I was planning to have a night alone, soak in a bath and –"

"Oh, Clary. This isn't about that Jace thing, is it? Because you shouldn't worry about it, I was just messing with you." I opened my mouth to speak, to say no again. "_Please_, Clary. I need the company."

I sighed, "Yeah, okay. I'll be there."

Half an hour later, at six-thirty, I was outside Isabelle's apartment, ringing on her bell.

The door opened and Isabelle embraced me in a tight hug.

"Um, hi." I said.

"I'm so glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about something important."

_Oh, God._ "Is it bad?" I asked as she led us over to the couch.

"No, no, Clary. It's not bad at all. I was going to, well, invite you to live in my apartment with me." I felt my jaw become slack and my eyes widen as we sat down. "I mean, the rent would be lower for you, even here. And it would be easy, and we could carpool together. I just have this feeling."

"This feeling…" I repeated.

"Yeah," she gave me a smile. "Like you'll fit in well here – with us, me and Alec and Jace and Magnus."

"Do you have another car park?"

"Well, not exactly. I only get one place. But we could just share my car."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Can I get back to you on this later in the week?"

Isabelle looked a little disappointed that I hadn't yelled to the world that I would love to move in here.

"Well," she said, a smirk on her lips, "we could always talk about Jace instead."

I just groaned, "Izzy, God no."

"Do you _like_ him?"

"No," I said, covering my face with my palms. "I don't _like_ him. He's my boss, Isabelle! It's impossible."

"So you do want a chance with him."

"What _are_ you rabbiting on about, Izzy?"

"You say it's 'impossible' which clearly means you've thought about it. About Jace."

"Look, I have no idea how many women he's had sex with or whatever, I don't want to be _anybody's_ fling."

"But you kissed him, once."

"Yeah, how many times must I tell you? It was _once_ and it has _passed_. Not to mention I was not thinking clearly, obviously!"

Isabelle slouched into the couch, "Nah, I reckon you like him."

"Isabelle?" a voice said from somewhere in the room. "What are you doing?"

"Shit," she said, running to her handbag. "Sorry Jace. Must've left my phone on speaker." Her phone beeped as she pressed a button and came and sat back down next to me.

_Had he heard our whole conversation? Ugh, I was going to kill Isabelle Lightwood!_

**JxC**

"Clary?" Jace said as soon as I answered the phone, apparently breaking the unspoken rule of letting the one being called speak first. "You okay?"

_Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up a bit. Jace, being _nice_? Was I dreaming!_

_Where's your voice, Clary? Stop being an idiot!_

"Yeah, sure. I'm great," I told him. _Liar._

"You're lying," he said. _Dammit._ I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "I knew I was right," and I could almost see his lips curling into his trademark smirk.

"Jace, just – shut up."

"No way to speak to your boss," he said.

"Really," I said, finally on my way back home. "I'm just not in such a brilliant mood, okay? I just want to be alone. And you are not helping out here, Wayland."

"'Wayland'?" he asked.

"Oh, whatever, Jace!" I said, hanging up, wrapping my arms around me, the New York chill sinking into my bones.

The next thing I knew, I was walking across the street, heading back to my stingy apartment. My phone rang again, and I hated the noise so much, "What?" I snapped. "What the hell do you want, Jace?"

I heard laughter through the phone: my mother's.

"Mum! I'm sorry!"

"Having fun working for Jace Wayland, then?"

I just groaned, twisting my key in my letterbox to see that I had – yeah, yet again – no mail. "Oh yes, Mum. I just _adore_ working for him."

"Do you really hate it so much?" she asked as I stepped into the elevator.

I sighed. "No, not really. He's just a handful to deal with."

"Do you _like_ him or something?"

"God, Mum. _No_! Why does everyone think that?"

"'Everyone'?" my mother asked with a chuckle.

"Isabelle, at least. Maybe even Jace."

"You don't call him Mr. Wayland?"

"He requested I didn't," I told her, opening my door. _"Shit."_

"What is it, honey?"

"There's water all over my floor – I didn't think I left any of my taps running."

I ran to my kitchen, dropping my bag on the counter.

Tap: off. "I'll be back in a minute, Mum. Don't hang up!"

"Okay, sweetie," she said I set the phone back in my handbag.

My shower wasn't turned on. Hell, nothing was.

I looked up at my ceiling, seeing water stains. _Of course._

I picked my phone up, "Hey Mum, I'll call you back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Sure thing, honey."

_God I hated this._

I ran up the stairs to the next floor, knocking on the door.

"Hello?" I yelled. "Is anyone home?"

The door opened and I just stared.

"Um, Sebastian?"

"Clarissa," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm in the apartment below you. I was wondering if you'd – I dunno – left a tap running or something, because my floors and ceilings are soaked."

"Uh, no. I haven't. My apartment's not at all wet."

"Okay. Well, thanks anyway." I said.

"Do you need a hand?"

"Ah, no thanks, Sebastian. I think I'll manage."

"As long as you're sure; just come back up if you need anything."

"Of course," I told him.

When I got back down to my apartment, I called Isabelle.

"Hello Clary. Made your decision?"

"Yes, actually. I'm in."

"Brilliant! But what made your mind up?"

"My apartment's flooded," I deadpanned.

"Really?"

"Yup. Crazy, huh."

"Well, I, uh, would invite you to stay over with me tonight but I'm having a man over."

"Fabulous, which means I can either call on Jace or Sebastian."

"Jace," she said smoothly, "you know you want to. Plus he'll put you up, you know it."

"Yeah, okay." I said, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Don't forget to take your own clothes!"

"Of course not," I told her, hanging up, and then dialling in Jocelyn's number.

**JxC**

_Tuesday 14__th__ December_

So that was how I ended up in Jace and Alec's apartment again. In Jace's bed again. But Jace was on the couch, which made me feel a tiny bit bad.

I watched the clock, watching every minute tick by.

And every minute that ticked by, the more restless I got, until finally I got up to go and get a glass of water or something.

"Clary?" Jace said the second I stepped into the living room.

"Um, yeah. It's me."

"What are you doing out of bed?" I looked at the way the moonlight fell over his hair, the blanket that covered his body on the leather couch.

"I couldn't sleep. I figured I'd get a glass of water – or something."

"Get me a glass too?"

"Okay," I said, tearing my eyes away from his blanket-covered body and heading to the kitchen. I poured two glasses of water before taking them both over to the couch.

I passed Jace his glass and he patted the spot on the couch that he'd just moved to free up. "Sit," he commanded.

I obeyed, holding my glass in both of my hands.

"So why can't you sleep?"

"I dunno," I told him. "Your bed, I guess. It's weird. Why aren't you asleep?"

"Because I'm on a couch that wasn't meant for sleeping on."

"I told you – you can take the –"

"What kind of man would that make me?"

"The kind of man who has sex with his front-desk-lady up against his office door," I blurted out.

"Is that so," he murmured. "Then I'm not who you thought I was?"

"I guess not," I whispered back.

"You slept just fine when we were both in my bed."

"I _was_ drunk, remember?"

"Maybe. But Izzy must've told you what she thinks about –"

"Yes, she has." We were quiet, sipping our waters. "Look, if you want to sleep in your bed with me, that's fine. I don't mind either way."

_I was probably – most definitely – overstepping the line here. Telling my _boss_ that I didn't mind sleeping in the same bed as him. Yeah, Clary, _sleeping _sleeping._

He sat up straight, bumping into my shoulder, and I flinched.

"Ow," he mumbled. "Well, sounds good to me."

He managed to maneuver around me until he was standing before me, his hand outstretched toward me.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go to bed."

I cringed. "Not like that," I said. "Just sleep."

"Look, Clary," he said as I took his hand, "I know I'm sexy but you're going to have to resist from jumping my bones. Alright?"

"Oh, shut _up_."

And then, before my mind had even processed it, I was climbing into his bed on the side closest to the window, and he was climbing in from the side closest to his en suite, wearing only his boxers.

"Hesitant, much?"

"Only because it's _you_," I retorted quickly.

"Uh-huh. Most women your age, and profession too," he said, sliding in under the doona as I did the same, "would be quite keen to be getting into my bed, you realise."

"I'm sure," I told him. "But I'm not most women, and I most certainly don't want to be having sex with you," I rolled over to face him, "you know why I can't be at home anyway."

He just stared at me, not saying anything.

"Be quiet," I said sharply, rolling over to face the window.

He chuckled and I didn't respond to him.

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep.

But eventually, trying to fall asleep became clock-watching, and clock-watching became worrying about my apartment and why it was flooded, about moving in with Izzy, about sleeping in Jace's bed _again_. When I focused my eyes on the digital clock again it was two in the morning, and I still hadn't had even one wink out of forty.

"Goddammit," I muttered to myself under my breath, as to not wake the man beside me who was surely sleeping.

He didn't wake, and I managed to drift off some time after two-thirty.

When Wayland's alarm went off at six-thirty, I opened my eyes confused, my surroundings and last nights events completely forgotten until an arm squeezed tighter around my waist, a body pressed up against my back.

I tried to keep my heart in check, my breathing slow, but it was hard.

"Jace?" I said, twisting in his embrace to face him.

"Hnnnn, still sleeping," he mumbled.

"Jace," I said more firmly, then without even thinking, raising my hand to cup his cheek. "Jace."

His eyes just squeezed together tighter before opening slowly.

"Hey," he smiled, his voice rough.

"Yeah," I said, "hi."

I waited for him to realise that he had me in his arms, but he didn't. And then I watched that stupid fucking smirk appear on his lips. He _knew_. _Ugh!_

"What's up, Clare-bear?"

I groaned, "_Please_ don't."

"Don't what?" he said, moving in closer, so we were pushed together, chest to chest, hips to hips, his legs entangling in mine.

I tried to push away, but it really didn't work, only pushing our hips closer together, almost-_grinding_ against each others'.

Jace groaned and I shivered, both loving and hating the feeling.

"By the Angel," he said, "how can you _stand_ it?"

I swallowed hard. "Stand what?"

"This," he said, pushing his hips against mine, his erection – boxer-covered, thank the heavens – pushing against my skin. _My skin? How had my baby-blue tank top ridden up so much? _"I don't understand how you're not pining to jump my bones right now."

"You're certainly not helping," I relented, instantly regretting the words as Jace ran his left hand up my right side, skimming the non-existent curves of my body, until his hand was cupping my cheek as mine was his.

He pulled my face closer to his and before my mind fully accepted what he was doing, his lips were on mine and I could do nothing but respond in the way that all female bodies were meant to respond to Jace Wayland.

I dropped my hand from his face and rested it on his chest, running my fingernails through the few blonde chest hairs that he did have.

His hand dropped down to my shorts, dipping a finger inside my undies.

_Shit, shit, shit, shiiit._ I took my hands off of him to grab at his hand, to pull him away. As soon as I got his hand off my skin, out of my undies, he broke our kiss, pulling back so that he could look at my face.

"What's wrong, Clary?"

"I – we can't do this now."

Remarkably, his face softened. "What's wrong? Is this just too fast or, what?"

"It's not – well, it _is_. But that's not – why."

He wrapped his arm around my back, pulling me tight against him.

I rested my forehead in the crook of his neck.

"Clary," he murmured, "talk to me."

"Look, I have my period, okay."

"Ah," he said. "Do you want the first shower?"

"That," I said, pressing my lips to his cheek, "would be fantastic." He released me and I climbed out of bed. "Any towel?" I asked.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll probably just wash it anyway."

_Might be a good idea,_ I cringed as I closed the bathroom door, seeing only white towels. _Damnit._

**JxC**

We arrived at work together again, Jace's hand on the small of my back as we walked to the lifts, unspeaking, though many people smiled and said their 'Good Morning's to Jace before continuing on their merry way.

"We're going to be okay today?" he asked once we were in the lift and alone.

"Huh," I said, "of course, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" he waved his hand in my general direction.

"Oh, right," I murmured. "No, _that_" I eyed him closely, "won't affect my performance."

He cocked a brow, "I thought it affected your performance…a lot, really."

"Oh, shut up."

"Not employee kind of manners," he muttered.

"Work begins as soon as we step off this lift," I announced, "is that okay with you?"

"Sure," he said, looking at the floor number – eighteen – before grabbing my waist and pulling me against him, going in for the kill.

"Jace, I –" but his mouth was on mine, and hell if I could refuse. I mean, the man was almost Angel-like in his handsomeness. Except Angels are made of light supposedly, and I doubted that I could be kissing _light_.

The lift _ding_ed at us and we broke apart quickly. I ran my hands over my hair and skirt, smoothing just as the door opened on floor twenty.

"Sebastian," Jace said, his voice tight.

"Jace," was Sebastian's reply as the doors closed and Sebastian hit the _22_ button.

Suffice to say the air in the lift was tense, and the two-floor journey seemed to take forever. And as soon as Sebastian stepped off, giving me a small smile and a wave, Jace hit the button to close the doors.

"So," I said casually, "what was up with that?"

"We've never gotten along," he muttered.

"You've known him a while then?"

He looked at me, searching my face for something I couldn't place, "Yes, the Verlac family was close to mine back in the day."

We were silent, absorbed in our own thoughts until we reached the 37th floor, when Jace spoke, "I want you to stay away from him. He's a womaniser."

"_Excuse me_?" I said, incredulous. "You can't expect me to follow your orders!"

"Well," he said slowly, "I can; you're my PA."

"Jace Wayland, I can speak to and interact with whomever I wish. I do not need your approval for anything!"

I couldn't believe him! This morning, he was being all nice and forgiving and all of a sudden he was telling me what to do! I hated how he made me swing from being almost completely lust-ridden despite the whole _that time of the month_ thing, and then to shouting at him for being a controlling freak!

My hormones probably weren't helping, though.

"Look," he said as we stepped off the lift, "Clary, I just don't think he's good for you, all right? I would _suggest_ staying away from him."

_Likely story_, I thought to myself.

Sebastian seemed nicer than Jace, why the hell shouldn't I fraternise with him? Because Wayland said so? Yeah, so not happening.

**DISCLAIMER: Just like last week, and just like next week. I don't own **_**TMI**_**. Only the wonderful Cassandra Clare has that pleasure :). (A woman who I am now following on Twitter – a la, cassieclare.)**

_Australian words:_

Rabbiting:_ to talk about some in great length, technically. But basically it means to, yeah, what I said before._

_I wasn't sure, I always thought that in COG, Sebastian was spelt 'Sebastian' so I've been spelling it with an 'e'. And I just checked the book – turns out I was wrong, so I'll go back over my chapters and correct that for you guys :)._

_~Maisy :) x_


	9. Chapter EIGHT

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"Look," he said as we stepped off the lift, "Clary, I just don't think he's good for you, all right? I would _suggest_ staying away from him."

_Likely story_, I thought to myself.

Sebastian seemed nicer than Jace, why the hell shouldn't I fraternise with him? Because Wayland said so? Yeah, so not happening.

**JxC**

**Chapter EIGHT**

_Thursday 23__rd__ December_

Go figure, right? It had just began snowing overnight, and if it kept up – which the weather girls on TV seemed insistent that it would – there was no way I'd be able to get to upstate New York to visit my mother for Christmas.

"What's up, Clary?" Isabelle said, appearing out of her bedroom.

I just nodded at the TV, looking at the girl with her cheery face as she repeated her warnings about the snowfall.

"Oh right," she murmured, "you were going to go and see Jocelyn."

"Yeah," I said. "And we have that stupid Office Christmas party tonight. I so wish you weren't forcing me to go – dateless, no less… I suppose I could ask Simon."

I looked at Isabelle, for her approval, but she almost cringed.

"Hey, hey. What's with that?" I asked.

"Well," she said, "Simon asked _me_. And I said yes."

"There goes that plan."

"Jace might be –"

"_No!_ He's probably going with one of his sex-sluts anyway. I'll just go on my own."

"Well," Isabelle gave me a smile, "as long as you're going, I'm happy. And if you let me make you up, of course."

"You know that I always do," I smiled. "I just hope that it warms up enough to melt some of the snow so that I can go home."

"Alec and I are going to visit our parents, as well. We're flying out tomorrow; it's going to be crazy."

I stood and went to the kitchen to get some breakfast.

**JxC**

As soon as I was in the building, sitting at my desk, the phone rang and I picked it up, answering it with ease, a sense of familiarity. Apparently, it was a Caitlin Davies, Wayland's _agent_, asking me to book him in for an episode of _Bones_ in mid-April. I checked Jace's schedule and told her the space was free, but I'd have to get back to her. She gave me her number and I hung up.

I knocked on Wayland's office door, opening it up slowly, peeking inside.

"May I come in?"

"Of course, Clary."

"Your agent called," I told him, "she wants to book you in for an episode of _Bones_. Mid-April next year. She couldn't give me many details, as they haven't been finalised, but apparently the producers and directors know that they want you."

"Uh-huh," he said. "I'll make a decision after Christmas."

"Right," I said, "I'll leave you to it, then."

"Wait," he said as I turned to head back out. "I need to ask you something," he continued, almost slowly, tentatively. "I don't have a date for tonight, and I _know_ it's late to be asking, but I was hoping you didn't already have a date. It will be purely business, unless you want it to be more," he waggled his eyebrows.

I gave him a small smile, "How about yes to the date, no to the more-than-business?"

He pretended to look disappointed, "I guess that'll have to do, huh."

**JxC**

It truly pained me how long Isabelle took, doing my make-up and my hair before helping me pull my black '50s style dress on, as to not ruin her work.

However, it took her about ten minutes to do herself, which I felt said something about her beauty in comparison to mine.

Her dress was long, and gold, and it looked fucking brilliant on her. She looked like an Egyptian goddess, dammit.

_Quelle surprise! _I thought as I pulled a silver belt around my waist, putting a matching necklace and earring set on as well.

She tossed me a pair of black kitten heels and slipped on a pair of gladiators. "I hate," she said, "not being able to wear heels."

"Shut up," I said, "at least you're not short."

"Oh come on –"

The doorbell rang and I thanked the Lords that Isabelle would not be able to continue, "I'll get it," I said too cheerfully, dropping my heels on the couch as I walked past it to the door. I peered through the peephole: _Jace Wayland._

I opened the door, smiling, feeling those glasses of champagne that Isabelle and I may have consumed earlier go to my head all in that moment. "Wow," I said, "you look great." I looked him over, black dress shoes, black suit pants, black suit jacket and a matching vest, white dress shirt, with the top buttons undone and no tie.

"As do you," he said, then under his breath he murmured something I didn't quite catch.

"Well, do you want to come in?"

"Yeah," he said, and I stepped aside, closing the door behind him. "Wow, yourself," he murmured. "What exactly did you _do_ to Izzy's apartment? It looks so much more – I don't know – lived in? It's nice."

"_I heard that!_" Izzy yelled from her bedroom.

"I suppose you cook too," he muttered.

I shot him a look. "I'll be back in a minute," I said, looking up at him, his hair a mess, as always.

I went and put my shoes on, then checking on Izzy. "You ready?" I asked.

"Just a minute, all right? I need to pee."

"Okay, okay," I said, grabbing my going-out-handbag. She disappeared into her en suite. "Wait," I said.

"Yeah?" she replied, through the door.

"Is Simon picking you up or what?"

"Nah, we're meeting there. I'm sorry to say I'm not sitting at your table."

I grimaced. "All right. Well, I'm gonna head off with Jace, if that's okay."

"Yeah, I was going to take my own car anyway."

"Okay?" I said to Jace, meeting him back in the kitchen.

He nodded and offered me his arm. "Won't you be cold, what without a jacket or something?"

"I don't have anything," I told him. _Even if I could afford it._

"You're an idiot," he said.

"Or maybe," I muttered under my breath, hoping he wouldn't hear, "I just don't have a million dollars flowing out my ass to spare."

We arrived at the hotel lobby earlier than most, so Jace led us to where they were serving pre-dinner drinks, and got us free champagnes – as the CEO of the company, he told the girl, though I reckoned she would've given us free drinks if he had've just winked at her.

He leaned up against a pole and sipped on his champagne, keeping his eyes trained on me.

"What?" I asked, feeling the alcohol from my pre-pre-dinner drinks with Izzy and my pre-dinner drinks with Jace getting to my head. I seriously needed to slow down on the alcohol, unless I wanted a repeat of Friday the 14th.

"You're not cold, right?"

"No, I'm not," I told him, tugging my necklace to the centre of my chest.

"I'm glad," he said, taking my hand in his, smoothing his thumb over the back of my hand.

"So," I said, without anything to continue with.

"So?" he repeated, dropping my hand.

I looked down at my shoes, then hearing the main door open my mind grinned a little, happy for someone to distract Jace.

"Jace!" the voice was one that was easily recognisable, though I'd not seen him in a while: _Magnus Bane_. He and Alec had been at Magnus' residence last night, for the privacy, Magnus had said. "How are you?" he boomed.

"Magnus, I saw you just the other morning. But I'm well, thank you."

Finally, I looked up, meeting Magnus' and then Alec's eyes.

"Clary!" Magnus put a hand on my shoulder, "I would hug you, but I don't really want to muck up your look. How are you, darling? Oh, and merry Christmas!"

"Fine, thank you. Yourself?"

"Yeah," he said, running a hand through his hair, almost sheepishly. "We had a good night, didn't we, Alec?"

Alec flushed and I decided I didn't want to know, though Jace laughed.

"Are you on our table?" I asked.

"Nah," Magnus said. "Wish we were, but I must sit with the other men in my area – Alec has come as my friend, of course. But hush, honey."

"Magnus," Alec scowled.

"Of course, Alec."

Sooner than I realised it – after another glass of champers, though I had no idea why I'd gone for another, maybe I was crazy? – we were moving into the main dining room, and I was pulling out a chair to sit down.

"We're good?" Jace said.

"Of course," I told him. "It's Christmas, right?" I smiled.

Before the others joined us, Jace gave me an odd look. "You're going back home for Christmas, yeah?"

"I am. Well, that's the plan. Like, if the snow doesn't hold of or melt away or something, I'll probably be stuck here, you know. It's crazy. But going home is the, um, priority? It's what I want to do, see my mum."

He gave me the smallest smile I'd ever seen play his lips. "I'd like that too," he murmured.

I was about to ask him, what exactly he wanted too, but then four people joined us and the moment was lost.

After the main course, but before dessert, many of the guests stood up and headed to a dance floor that I hadn't noticed when we'd walked in.

"Dancing," I said, mostly to myself.

Jace was still beside me, despite many offers from girls to dance with him. "Uh-huh," was his reply.

Since we'd been sitting in what was pretty much silence, I'd been thinking about the past two weeks. We'd kissed once since our run-in with Sebastian in the elevator. And while I was finding it hard to regret any moment that we touched, I truly wanted to, to be able to be annoyed at myself for doing anything so stupid.

Sometimes when he passed me, he'd place his hand on my shoulder or brush his hand against mine. But I didn't let him kiss me, and I didn't go to his apartment, even though I was staying at Izzy's.

"Come on," I said, standing up and offering Jace my hand.

"Dancing?" he asked.

"Why not?"

"Why not, indeed," he agreed, not taking my hand but standing up. I let my hand drop to my side, and began walking to the dance floor. Jace caught up to me easily and grabbed my hand, brushing my dress-clad thigh as he did, sending tingles to the core of my body. "Do much dancing?" he asked as we stepped onto the floor.

"Not really," I said, "but I'm not a bad follower."

"Always a good start," he said, putting his right hand on my hip and taking my right hand in his left. "Hand on my shoulder."

"Duh," I said, though I did what he said.

He took us to the middle of the dance floor, and led me through whatever routine he felt like – since we weren't living in a movie, and people weren't just magically all dancing the same song and in time.

Yet somehow, everyone seemed to be moving in a weird kind of synchronisation, even though it wasn't at all synchronised. I told Jace this and he just cocked an eyebrow, and told me that he didn't see it.

I rolled my eyes and glanced down at my feet, noticing that my toes were looking a little red. A slow song came on then, and Jace moved his arms, so that they were just wrapped around my waist. And we pretty much just stopped moving. Instinctually, I put my hands around his neck, my wrists resting on his shoulders. Then we swayed, just like everyone else on the floor – except most of them were actual couples.

I even noticed Magnus and Alec swaying together.

I rested my head on Jace's chest and he began murmuring along with the lyrics, whispering them in my ear.

**JxC**

It was after midnight when Jace and I made it back to our apartment building. I got off on mine and Izzy's floor, and Jace stayed in the elevator, heading up to his floor.

I scurried to our room alone, getting into a warm shower, soaking myself, before giving my hair a quick rub dry and then pulling on my baby-blue tank and flannelette pants set. I got myself a drink of water, took a Panadol and went to climb into bed.

I fell asleep almost instantly.

That was, until my phone started buzzing at three forty-five.

I hit ignore twice, without looking at the caller ID, before I finally decided to answer – still not bothering with the number.

"If this isn't really freaking important, I swear to hell you are going to –"

"Hold up, hold up!" Jace said. "Let me in to your apartment. I've been ringing your doorbell for five minutes flat."

"Do I really have to?" I asked, pleading, despite knowing that trying to fall asleep after the disturbance would be near impossible.

"As your boss, I am telling you to let me in."

I hung up and climbed out of bed slowly, feeling with my feet for my slippers.

Once in the living room, I checked through the peephole to make sure that it was Jace – and it was – then I opened the door.

He'd gotten changed – duh – into cargo shorts and a white t-shirt, which was almost as attractive as the suit, damnit.

"What's so important that it's worth waking me up at three thirty in the fucking morning for?"

"I couldn't sleep," he murmured, walking in through to the living space.

"Well," I said, shutting the door. "I was sleeping like a baby, so thanks shit loads."

"Don't babies sleep sporadically at best? Waking at insane hours of the night? Like three thirty?"

"Oh, shut up, Jace. What exactly do you want me to do?"

He sat down on the couch and looked out Isabelle's window – and mine too, now. "Sit here with me," he told me. "Keep me company."

I sat beside him – what the hell else could I do? – and he took my hand in his, like he had many times only hours ago. "I'm really," I yawned, "sleepy, Jace."

"I know," he said. "Too many glasses of champagne does that to girls."

I would've argued, about him calling me a _girl_ when I was a _woman _–_ pfft, Wife of Man, my ass!_ But I digress – but I was tired, whilst I hadn't thought that I would be able to sleep after the insistent phone ringing… What with Jace rubbing circles into the back of my hand, and my focus on the calming rise and fall of his breath and the affect it had on his chest, I felt my eyes grow tired, my lids beginning to droop.

Then I was out for the count. _Crazy, right?_

**JxC**

As it always seemed to be when I fell asleep beside Jace Wayland, I awoke in a rather precarious position, our legs tangled, our bodies pressed tight against each other as Jace's arms wrapped around me. My hands? Well, when I woke, they were on his hips.

I rubbed circles on the skin there like he did on the backs of my hands, on the small of my back. Smoothing and soothing.

"Good morning, Miss Fairchild," he said suddenly, his eyes still closed, surprised, my body jerked away from him. He opened an eye, peeking out at me.

"I need to get up," I said. "Isabelle could get home any minute now."

"She went home with Simon," he replied, as if this was an answer.

"Yeah, so? She could be home any minute."

I put my hands on his chest and pushed hard.

And, of course, I landed on the carpet with a _thud!_ and Jace just looked at me, not seeming particularly concerned.

"I'm going to have a shower," I told him, crossing my arms.

"Can I join you?"

"No," I said firmly.

"Come on," he pressed. "What do they say? 'Save water, shower with friends'?"

"Yeah. Friends. We're colleagues, peers."

"It's all the same thing," he told me, getting up from the couch and stalking towards me like a lion.

"No, it's really not." I ran to the hallway, and then into the bathroom where I slammed the door shut and flicked the lock.

I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the door.

"You know," Jace said, through the door. "Most women –"

"Bugger off, Jace!"

I turned the shower on full blast, flicking on the radio to Isabelle's favourite station and turning the volume up way loud so that I wouldn't be able to hear Jace and his stupid voice.

_His stupid voice that you secretly adore, that makes you sweat._

_ What the fuck!_

I stripped and jumped in the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind me.

I pulled my fingers through the birds' nest that was my fair before washing it and then soaping my whole body.

I let myself soak, just like the night before. Then when I realised I was probably wasting water, I hopped out and pulled my pyjamas back on.

When I walked out into the kitchen, Jace was standing by the sink, in only his boxers, running a washcloth over his chest.

"Because you couldn't wait to have a shower?" I asked, and he looked up.

"I was worried you'd use up all of the hot water," he smirked.

_Bet's on he's thinkin__g something goddamn dirty right now._

"Yeah, right," I said, walking over to the door that led out onto the balcony.

I grimaced. _There was still snow on the streets, but it wasn't enough to keep me in this stupid apartment with Wayland. I was going to go home._

I went to my bedroom to pull on some clothes – light blue jeans, a grey long-sleeved t-shirt and a dark purple jumper – when I noticed that my mobile was buzzing.

"One new message," I read aloud, clicking on it, I held the phone to my ear.

_ Hi Clary, it's just me, your mum. I wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about coming up for Christmas – celebrate it with your friends instead, Isabelle and Simon and such. We're snowed in, Luke and I, and you know that the traffic would be impossible, especially with such snow. I doubt you'd be here before morning even if you left this very minute. I'm so sorry, honey. We'll have to have a New Years' party instead. I love you, darling, bye!_

**DISCLAIMER: Only Cassandra Clare has the pleasure of owning Jace Wayland and Clarissa Fairchild.**

_Australian words:_

Bugger off:_ piss off, go away, leave me alone! Et cetera..._

Pyjamas:_ pajamas, but spelt right._

_I've done some Polyvore-ing, so if you want to check our Clary and Isabelle's dresses/outfits, the links are on my profile page! Reviews are just fantabulous! We're nearing sixty now – how exciting! – and after sixty… Maybe one day, we'll have a hundred – crazy as that sounds. I look forward to your feedback, kiddles :)._

_~Maisy :) x_


	10. Chapter NINE

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

"One new message," I read aloud, clicking on it, I held the phone to my ear.

_ Hi Clary, it's just me, your mum. I wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about coming up for Christmas – celebrate it with your friends instead, Isabelle and Simon and such. We're snowed in, Luke and I, and you know that the traffic would be impossible, especially with such snow. I doubt you'd be here before morning even if you left this very minute. I'm so sorry, honey. We'll have to have a New Years' party instead. I love you, darling, bye!_

** JxC**

**Chapter NINE**

_Friday 24__th__ December_

I shut my bedroom door and sat down on my bed, calling both Simon and my mother. Simon – Simon Lewis, my childhood best friend – had caught a flight to meet with his parents and family in Hawaii for Christmas. I knew that Isabelle and Alec had gotten on a plane to visit their parents out of state. Which pretty much left me alone.

My mother had told me not to worry, and that we'd celebrate at New Years'. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone, just looking, feeling tears well in my eyes. When my phone rang, my eyes were so out of focus that I couldn't see the caller ID, I just answered, my voice breaking.

"Hello? This is Clarissa Fairchild."

"Clarissa, it's me, Jonathon."

"Jonathon?" I asked. "What are you – why are you calling?"

"Because it's Christmas, Clarissa. Dad and I wanted to invite you over for dinner tomorrow." I had the feeling that it wasn't so much of an invite as a command.

I just breathed. I hadn't seen Jonathon in months and our father since I quit my job as one of his desk-women, typing things up, doing powerpoints, et cetera, et cetera. It was shit work, and my father, Valentine Morgenstern, was strict, my lunchtimes never coincided with any that my work friends took _purposefully_, I didn't get paid much because I was the daughter. And as the daughter, I was the disappointment; my brother had always been the favourite, well, my father's favourite anyway.

"Clary," my brother breathed, his voice sweet and charming. "Please, you remember what our Christmases used to be like. Imagine facing that alone, like I have for the last four years."

"Jonathon… I can't," I murmured.

"Why?" he growled. _That's exactly why!_

"I'm feeling sick," I told him; it wasn't a complete lie.

He laughed, "That's the best excuse you can come up with!"

I sighed. "I just can't, Jonathon. I can barely get out onto the street without freezing up like an icicle. I can't drive in this weather.

He muttered something like: _women shouldn't be driving at all_ before continuing. "We could pick you up, if you'd tell us where you live."

"Why don't you get it, Jonathon! I'm not coming down to father's for Christmas! I can't!"

"You owe him this, Clarissa," he growled. "How else would you have gotten that job with Jace Wayland?"

I'd have to admit, that sobered me up pretty damn quick. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jace Wayland," he repeated. "He used to be one of my best friends, back in primary school, we played sport together. You would've seen his house many times, before it was burnt down and he was orphaned, sent off to some school _for_ orphans."

I remembered. Seeing his house, burnt till it was almost entirely black, the boy had been lucky, playing with his friend from across the road when the house lit up with flames, I'd read it in the paper, and felt sorry for the boy whose name I hadn't known.

"Dad got you that job, Clarissa. He bribed Wayland's office into taking you on – no one else would have and you know it."

Tears dripped off my cheeks, falling onto my jumper. _How much of this had been a lie? All of the friendships I'd built, they were all based on this!_

There was a knock on my door: Jace. _Fuck._

I covered the mouthpiece of my phone and shouted out, "Just a minute!"

There was a grumble from the other side of the door, but it stayed shut.

"What was that?" Jonathon asked.

"I was just telling my roommate to be quiet because I was talking to you on the phone." I took a deep breath. "I'm not coming down for Christmas, okay? It's too far, and I can't stand this kind of weather. I don't want to come down for Christmas. I'm sure you'll manage, Jonathon. You always have before."

"CLARISSA MORGENSTERN," he shouted in my ear so loud that I dropped the phone and the battery fell out on impact.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, _cra-ap_." I picked up my phone and shoved the battery back in. When my phone rang again, it was Jonathon, but I didn't pick up.

"Clary? You all right?" Jace asked through me door.

_Better idea,_ I thought. I took the battery back out and threw it in my bedside table draw along with my phone.

"Clary? I swear if you don't answer I will –"

I opened the door and looked at Jace. "You're still here?" I asked.

His brow furrowed. "Of course I'm still here. Where else could you possibly want me to be?"

"I dunno. Oh, away from me?"

I pushed past him and closed the door behind me.

"So what was all that about anyway?"

"If it was any of your business, I'd tell you. If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone now."

_It kind of is his business, _a voice told me, _I mean, Jonathon did mention the bribe and stuff, remember?_

I plopped down on the couch, feeling horrible and icky. I'd been looking forward to going home to see Jocelyn, but now I was stuck here. With Jace, at least until he disappeared.

"What's up?" he asked again.

"It doesn't matter," I scowled. "Just leave it alone, all right?"

He shook his head, disapprovingly, then a smile lit up his face. And he announced, "I have an idea."

**JxC**

Despite Jace's attempts to get my mind off of the phone call he knew nothing about – buying Christmas decorations, buying and eating tubs of ice cream, though it was already cold enough – my thoughts did keep going back to what Jonathon had been saying. _Jace was bribed. Was everything a lie then?_

We bought some donuts from Krispy Kreme on the way back from the supermarket and another of Jace's hole-in-the-wall stores that sold Christmas decorations.

"Mmmm, these are so good," Jace smiled at me, taking a bite out of his second donut.

"You're terrible at the jam donut game," I told him, even though my speech was impaired by the sugar on my lips, watching as he licked his. "The whole point is to not lick your lips."

"Replay? Let's buy some more at the Krispy Kreme near the apartment building."

When we got back to Isabelle's and my apartment, Jace put the ice cream in the freezer and I set the donuts on the kitchen bench and put the bag of Christmas decorations on the floor.

"Good for this game of yours?" he asked me.

"Of course, as long as you're ready to get caned!"

He just smirked at me.

"Two donuts each. First one to lick their lips loses."

"You're on."

I'm not going to lie, I expected to win, but when Jace finished his second donut and his lips remained unlicked, I didn't know what to do, since I hadn't licked mine either.

"What now?" we both said at the same time – at which, Jace smirked. _Of course._

"Well, we could…" he stepped closer to me, and I moved back until I hit the kitchen counter. I had to try really hard not to lick my lips right now. He leaned in until his face – _his gorgeous face_ – were mere centimetres from mine. "You don't mind?"

I seriously almost licked my lips. "Mmmm."

Though it wasn't really an affirmative, Jace's lips were on mine, kissing me, before I would've ever had the chance to push him away – not that I would have, I mean, how often did I have hot – scratch that – _super_ hot guys lusting after me? He licked my lips, slowly, 'til there was no trace of sugar left. I figured that it was only fair if he took my sugar then I should take his. And as soon as my tongue touched his lips he groaned and I smiled against his mouth.

When we broke apart, I couldn't keep the silly grin off my face. _This_ was a good distraction, I thought.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest.

"No way, Clary," he said, holding me back from his chest. "There are much better things we can do that cuddle."

He met my lips tentatively now, and I moved my arms, interlocking my fingers at his nape. He grasped my hips and lifting me up onto the kitchen counter without breaking our contact. As Jace's lips moved over mine, I threaded my fingers into his hair. When he did pull back, he smiled at me and suggested that we move to the sofa.

"As much as I am loving this," I told him, feeling bold and running my thumb along his lower lip. "It's Christmas Eve, we have to put up the decorations. It wouldn't be Christmas without them."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes," I said, patting his shoulder and jumping off the counter. "Come on. I'm not gonna be able to reach the top of the windows."

I decided that we should start by hanging the lights around the window in the living room, so now I was atop Jace's shoulders, trying to get a thread of fairy lights to stick to the ceiling, which was harder than I'd expected.

"Blu-Tack isn't working," I announced. "Either I need more or we need to find some other way to get this stuff to stick."

"Sticky tape?"

"I'm not really sure we have any, honestly."

"Hum," he said, turning us around. "Might you have something in your kitchen?"

"What could you possibly find in our kitchen?" I asked, even though he was already our way over. The sudden movement jolted me and I grabbed Jace's hair too hard, which made him groan. "Sorry."

"It's all good, Clare."

"Clary," I corrected. "Clary. Say it."

"Clary," he repeated and I ruffled his hair.

"Good boy," I smirked to myself.

"Top cupboard, middle shelf," Jace told me once he had us in the corner of the kitchen."

I opened it up. "How did you know there was extra Blu-Tack in there?"

"You've seen Isabelle's room, I suppose."

"Oh, yeah." Izzy's room was covered in posters. No doubt she needed the Blu-Tack. _Oh well. _I grabbed the packet.

"Got it?"

"Yeah, let's get back to it."

When we finished and I got down off Jace's shoulders, about an hour later, he looked seriously sore so I apologised and promised to give him a shoulder massage after I'd gotten us some ice cream.

"Do you even know anything about massages?" Jace asked as I passed him a tub of Valhalla Choc Choc Chip ice cream, opening up a similar container for myself – though, mine was Blueberry Bliss flavoured, apparently.

"Honestly," I said, digging my spoon into the ice cream, sitting beside him on the sofa. "I don't know anything about massages, but I'm gonna make it up and hope I don't screw your shoulders up totally."

After eating about half a litre of ice cream in ten minutes, Jace announced that he had a brain freeze and that it was time for me to have a go at massaging before he got a shoulder freeze too.

I rolled my eyes and told him to sit on the floor in front of me.

He did so, settling between my legs. "Good?"

"Uh-huh," I replied, putting my hands on his shoulders and rolling the muscle underneath me, completely unsure of what I was doing.

But the occasional groan, of what was obvious pleasure, from Jace told me that I wasn't doing _too_ badly.

Eventually, I stopped and Jace stretched his neck back so that he was looking at the ceiling. I bent over him, my hair forming a curtain around our faces. "You 'right there?"

His hands cupped my cheeks, pulling me down 'til our lips met. This time, though, there was no soft and tentative, it was fast and hard. It was such a weird position, though, with Jace's nose in line with my chin.

I was the one to break the kiss, but only so that I could slide off the couch and into Jace's lap instead. With one leg on either side of his, I just looked at him, staring into his almost-golden eyes. He pressed his lips against my neck, continuing then to pepper kisses across my cheeks and neck, never once landing one on my lips – much to my disappointment.

"Come _on,_" I said, pushing my fingers into his hair and pulled his face towards me. "Don't be a cockblocker."

"Technically," he said, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. "You are," kiss, "the one," kiss, "who would be," kiss, "doing the," kiss, "cockblocking."

"Stop that!" I moved my hands to his cheeks and kissed him hard.

_Jace is your boss. The boss who only employed you because he was offered shitloads of money from your father…_

I pulled back, looking into his eyes. "What's up?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"I – it's nothing."

"The same nothing from before, in your bedroom?"

I swallowed, pressing my face into his shoulder so that he wouldn't be able to see my face. "And you can't tell me?"

"No," _because if I told you, I don't know what would happen._

"C'mon."

"It was my brother on the phone." I lifted my head back up and stared at Jace's face, looking for some kind of reaction as I clarified. "Jonathon Morgenstern." His face only crumpled a little bit, but it was enough. "Who you know, don't you?"

"He was my best friend before the fire."

"You must've been one fucked up kid, hanging out with my brother."

"He's changed now, he used to be better."

"Yeah, and that's why you let my father and brother bribe you into giving me this freaking job." My tone was harsh, and I was moments away from breaking down.

_"What?"_ he just looked at me, as if I was crazy. "What are you talking about, Clary?"

"My brother told me," I continued, "that the only reason that you employed me was because my father gave your office heaps of money, a bribe."

"He didn't. I mean, he asked me to consider it properly, take some extra time thinking about taking you on, but there was never any money, just a few phone calls."

"You're lying."

"I'm not. I swear on the Angel." I searched his eyes, his face for some kind of twitch or something that would've indicated that he was lying, but I couldn't see anything. "Come here." He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close and resting his head on my shoulder.

After sitting there that way for a few minutes, Jace leaned back to look at me, then pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. "Ice cream," he suggested.

I let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't trust my brother all the time."

"It's fine, Clary," he reached across to the coffee table and grabbed my ice cream tub and put a spoonful in my mouth.

Once I'd swallowed it, I smiled, "You know that ice cream is amazing."

"It is," he smiled back.

For dinner I cooked a tuna pasta bake, which Jace and I ate at around seven, with a bottle of wine between us. Then we finished that off with what was left of the Choc Choc Chip ice cream.

"I'd have to say, you're like a million times better at cooking than Isabelle. Not that being better at cooking than Izzy was ever hard. Even Max was – better at cooking than Izzy."

I gave Jace a sympathetic smile and he shot me this weird look that I didn't quite understand.

"I'm gonna go and watch the news," I told him, "then I'll wash up. All right?"

"I'll wash up," he smiled.

"Thanks." I got up and went to sit on the couch, turning the TV on and watching Katelyn Carlson read out the news bulletins, something about Christmas cheer and then snow and blah blah blah. I kinda zoned out, ended up staring at the Christmas lights that Jace and I had put along the railing on the balcony and the buildings across the street that were also covered in fairy lights.

Then the couch beside me sank and Jace's arm wrapped around my waist and I leaned into him automatically.

"Sleepy?"

"Kinda, yeah. But we should watch a Christmassy movie or something first."

"Sounds like a good idea. What are you thinking of? _Die Hard_?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you wanna watch _Die Hard_, we can. I'm pretty sure I have it somewhere."

"Swa-eet."

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI,**_** Cassandra Clare does.**

_I was thinking, some good fanart of TMI: burdge-bug (dot) deviantart (dot) com (forward slash) gallery (forward slash). And then search "mortal instruments" in her gallery. No doubt you'll find some genius work. I also have no doubt that there will be some errors in this chapter, but I figured I'd post early for you guys. Though, since it's holidays, I probably won't have a regular uploading schedule at all… Hum. Oh well!_

_Australian Words_

_Primary school: It's like Grade Three through to Six? Americans call it Elementary or something. Yeah, I think your schooling system is confusing :P._

_Blu-Tack: Do you have this in the U.S.? It's like the biggest life saver ever. Google it if you don't already know what it is. ^^_

_Valhalla ice cream: is like the best ice cream I've ever eaten. I'm assuming that it is similar to Ben and Jerry's, kinda. They do 'different' flavours – like Christmas Cake, Buttered Pecan and Roasted Wattleseed and Macademia Nut. (Web: valhallaicecream (dot) com (dot) au (forward slash) flavours (dot) htm)._

_Reviews are lovely!_

_~Maisy :) x_


	11. Chapter TEN

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

"Sounds like a good idea. What are you thinking of? _Die Hard_?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you wanna watch _Die Hard_, we can. I'm pretty sure I have it somewhere."

"Swa-eet."

**Chapter TEN**

_Friday 24__th__ December_

Clary fell asleep like thirty minutes into the movie, her small, warm body leaning against mine – which I cannot say that I minded. She wriggled a little bit and I thought about how earlier, when we'd been sitting on the floor kissing, I'd had to focus so damn much on not getting a hard-on. I mean, really, Clary was my PA.

Then again, I had been kissing her – making out with her, on and off since December 11th. Not that I was counting, of course. I'd never count.

Well, not much.

I knew I needed to stop thinking like that.

When we'd been in the office in the past few days, I'd had Clary working close beside me, simply because I preferred it. Because I _enjoyed_ her company. I'd only ever truly enjoyed Alec's company before.

It was a rather odd sensation, to actually want a woman at my side, to not want her just for sex.

I smoothed my hand over her hair – which was, honestly, a bird's nest, though it was _too_ messy for sex hair, if that made sense. She stirred, burying her head into my shoulder, humming contently for a bit and then quieting.

I had a moment where I thought about putting her into bed, but it was shortly crushed after her hand ended up on my chest, running down my body until it fisted in the hem of my shirt.

Oh, how I wanted her hand to travel lower!

But – and, oh, boy, was there a _big_ 'but' in this situation – Clary was my personal assistant (not that it had ever stopped me before), and she seemed to be _more_ than any other assistant I'd ever had. She was more smarts than looks, for once, and while she was pretty, maybe beautiful, she wasn't _hot_ like I would've called Aline or some of my previous PAs-slash-sexual partners, but I digress: I appreciated the smartness more than I'd thought I would.

I knew that Clary Fairchild would draw the line at anything sexual, no matter what our sexual connection. Not even if we had that _zing_ing chemistry that those female porn novels talked about – yes, I'd read one. Well, one of the sex scenes anyway. It was easy to read on her face that, first and foremost, we were work colleagues, then the kissing stuff, came later.

And no, it didn't have a label.

If it even did, I don't know what I'd call it. We were hardly friends with benefits, but we were obviously more than friends.

God, I could be such a woman sometimes!

_This crap doesn't matter,_ I told myself.

_Then why do you think about it so much?_ a voice inside my head asked – great, I was hearing voices now – sounding suspiciously like Clary's.

_I only – _"You're talking to yourself," I whispered.

I focused hard on the movie, then when the credits began to roll I thought about what I was supposed to do next.

I lifted Clary up into my arms, bridal style, I took her to the bedroom, getting her under her covers without her stirring at all.

Knowing that when I was here I found it difficult to sleep on Isabelle's horrid modern couch – well, without Clary at least – I stripped down to my boxers and slid under the doona with Clary.

**JxC**

_Saturday 25__th__ December_

I woke to the sound of water against tile and the feeling of an empty bed. Clearly, in case you hadn't figured, my Clary was in the shower and not in bed. I rolled onto my stomach, my arm flopping over the edge of the bed, to look at the alarm clock. God, it was already ten thirty. Still it was too much effort to get out of bed, and I doubted that Clary wanted me to join her in the shower somehow.

I rubbed my cheek against the pillow, feeling the stubble there. I lifted my hand and ran my fingers over my other cheek. _Yep, I definitely needed a shave._

I closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me again.

The second time that I woke on Christmas morning was to Clary running her fingers over my stubble like I'd done earlier. Twenty minutes earlier, according to Clary's clock.

"Good shower?" I asked her, wrapping my hand around hers, taking her in.

Was she becoming more daring around me, or did she just not realise that she was only wearing a towel? "It was nice, yeah."

I sat up, holding her hand in mine still.

"You're only wearing boxers," she accused me.

"I thought we'd gotten past this," I said, running a hand through my hair.

"Have we?"

I smirked at her, taking our joined hands and running my fingers along her jaw. She leaned into my hand, her eyes closing as though she barely realised she was doing it. "I think we have," I repeated, and her eyes snapped open. "Then again, you can't really talk. Look at you, you're only wearing a towel."

She stood up, almost sharply, her back straightening.

I watched her walk over to her wardrobe, watched her hips sway.

She shot me a look. "No peeking, Wayland."

I turned around, staring at the blinds that were drawn down over the floor-to-ceiling window. "You done yet?"

"No, you idiot." I listened to the ruffle of clothes and – _whatever_. "Turn around now." I did. "What should I wear?"

She still had the towel wrapped around her, but she was clearly wearing a bra – probably underpants, too. "Um. A short skirt and a low-cut boob tube?"

The look she gave me then was pure incredulousness. "In this weather, are you crazy?" I raised an eyebrow. "Was that supposed to be a joke, Jace?"

"Wear what you like," I told her, not answering her question. "Jeans, whatever."

She turned her back to me, dropping the towel, exposing her plain pink Bonds boyshorts, and the clasp of a purple bra.

I got off the bed and stood behind her, putting my hands on her bare hips. She jumped, but didn't move to push me away.

I rested my chin on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"This feels very, um, couple-y, Mr. Wayland."

"Does it just, Miss Fairchild." I replied, and she rested her arms on top of mine. "As much as I love my women with as few clothes on as possible, you should probably get dressed. Then we shall go to my apartment, if you don't mind, of course."

"Is your apartment decorated Christmasally?" she asked me and I lifted my head from her shoulder, standing up straight.

"That is so not a word," I told her. "But yes. Magnus did it for us; he went crazy with lights, tinsel and whatsits."

"Baubles?" she suggested, leaning her head back against my chest, exposing her neck and purple bra.

"Purple baubles," I smirked.

She barely reacted. "That was a terrible joke."

"I think you're getting too used to me, teasing you isn't as fun."

"Well, I'm sorry," she said, removing herself from my arms. She grabbed a pair of jeans, and as she was pulling them on, she ordered me to get dressed.

"Most women –"

"'Most women' this. 'Most women' that. Who cares! I know you've had many, many sexual escapades with many women, but I'm sick of you starting half of your sentences with 'most women'."

"Wow. Sudden mood swing, much."

Her brows furrowed as she looked at me, her hands on her hips. "You're still not dressed. Get to it, or I won't have time to cook Christmas lunch."

I found my clothes on the floor where I'd left them and pulled them on.

When I turned back, she had a green velvet coat on over her jeans.

"Good to go?" I asked her.

"Yes, but no thanks to you."

"Is it ever thanks to me?" I asked no one.

**JxC**

I walked out of my bathroom, a towel around my neck, wearing only jeans – well, and boxers underneath them, of course. I gave my hair another rub with the towel as I sat at the bar stool by the kitchen bench in my apartment, where Clary was working over Christmas lunch.

"So, my woman, what are having for lunch?"

"Your woman?" she looked up at me, her eyes wide.

"What are we having for lunch, Clary?"

She sighed. "Barbecue chicken from the supermarket, my mother's salad, pasta salad and some vegies. You're doing dessert, since I figured that meant just ice cream to you."

"Dessert can be cakes," I told her. "But I can't cook, so ice cream it is!"

"Which is pretty much what I thought. I was also thinking about doing a sweet potato soufflé, but I wasn't sure if it would be worth it, since it's just us."

"Am I not worth the effort?"

"I didn't say that, boss. I just meant that we won't eat it all, I think. I'm barely even hungry."

"You're not anorexic?" I asked, poking her thin arm.

"Don't be stupid; I'm just feeling kind of ill."

"And cooking loads makes you feel better?"

"Sometimes it does," she said, taking a lettuce from the fridge and tearing the leaves off, then into smaller pieces.

"Why don't you chop the lettuce?"

"'Cause if you chop it, then it won't last as long, it browns faster."

"Right," I replied. _Not like that makes sense._

When we served up what Clary called 'Christmas Lunch' it was closer to dinnertime, nearly six o'clock. When I told her this, she just scowled at me, saying, "Call it Christmas dinner if you like, but this _is_ lunch. For me, at least."

The table was almost completely covered in bowls of food, vegetables that she'd chopped, her salads and the supermarket chook.

"You know," I said as I heaped the food onto my plate, "this is great. Usually I have dinner with Izzy and Alec's family on Christmas. And it's a little bit awkward, you know?"

"Yeah," she said. Though I got the feeling that she didn't understand it at all. And her plate was rather empty in comparison to my own. I did hope she wasn't anorexic. You could end up in hospital with that shit.

"And this isn't. Awkward, I mean."

"It will be if you don't start eating and telling me how great I am at cooking."

I dug in, shovelling my food into my mouth like men do, simply because it was what men do. Though I split nothing on my black t-shirt. It was one of my many talents, I suppose.

"This is good; your stuffing is much better than that stuff they usually put in the chickens."

"Jocelyn's recipe," she murmured, chopping up a piece of chicken and putting it in her mouth. "And thanks."

I smiled at her.

We didn't really talk until we'd finished eating, when Clary patted her almost-flat stomach, "God. I'm so full."

I smirked. "I could go another round."

"Then do. We don't want this food to go to waste, right? I mean, Izzy and Alec don't get back for a while, do they?"

"Mmm. They get back just before New Years'."

"And we have work as soon as it turns to 2011."

"Yeah, well, as long as we're not totally hung-over."

She just rolled her eyes at me. "I'm gonna start packing these up. Do you have Tupperware?"

"Um." I replied, shoving a piece of lettuce in my mouth. "Dunno."

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," she retorted, standing up and taking her plate and a couple of other dishes.

"Oh, we didn't open that bottle of bubbly."

"I was thinking we could have that for dinner instead."

"Ah," was all I said in response.

I ate as I watched her package up the salads, vegetables and chicken in either Tupperware containers or wrapped on their plates with Glad Wrap. Her jean-clad bum swinging from side to side almost as if she meant to be dancing, her green velvet – which I had since decided was more of a jacket than a coat, not that it was important really – _jacket_ only covering the waistband of her jeans.

"That modelling thing," I said, and she turned to look at me.

"The campaign? I was wondering about that, you know. You hadn't mentioned it for a while."

"We do need to talk about it. Maybe not now, though. At work sometime."

"No, really," she replied, filling the kettle and setting it down to boil. "I'm having a cup of tea," she said when she noticed my raised eyebrow. "Did you want one?"

"Coffee?" I asked her, taking my empty plate into the kitchen and putting it in the dishwasher.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, getting both teabags and instant coffee out of a cupboard.

"How come you know my kitchen better than I do? I didn't even know we had teabags and coffee."

"Perhaps because before I started cooking I went through all of your cupboards to see what you had. Maybe you should do it sometime."

"Or maybe you should just live in my apartment," I said without thinking about it.

She swallowed hard; I saw it in her throat. "Um, I –"

"It was a joke, Clary," I smiled. _Had it actually been a joke, though?_

She looked way too relieved at my words, heaving a sigh.

I leaned against the cupboard that hid our fridge from view, closing my eyes and crossing my arms across my chest.

"Hey. Hey? What's up?" she asked, her hand on my forearm.

I opened my eyes, looking at her. She was standing in front of me, looking so sweet and innocent. I forced a smile on my face, wondering what this feeling was.

"Jace," she murmured. I uncrossed my arms, wrapping them around her, pulling her in between my spread legs. She didn't resist, and I was so glad.

Her hands rested on my hips, since it would be difficult to get her arms between the cupboard and my back.

She said my name again, her voice firm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Clary."

"Then –" she broke off. "There's a _My Family_ Christmas special on tonight that I wanted to watch."

"_My Family_?"

"It's a British comedy type thing. My mum and I used to watch it together."

"If you like," I told her.

"I'll just make our cups of caffeine then."

**JxC**

Honestly, I didn't find the TV show all that funny. Maybe you had to have a proper family to find it amusing? I didn't know. But I did find Clary rather amusing to watch, when she'd smile if something funny had happened, or the couple of times when she actually laughed aloud. She was entertainment enough; I didn't need the show.

When the credits began to roll, she smiled at me.

Apparently our awkwardness before forgotten.

"Is there anything you wanted to watch tonight?"

"Not really," I said as she began to flick through the Pay TV channels that we had, eventually stopping on one as she looked at me.

It was cricket. In Australia, apparently.

They were talking about how they were expecting record crowds for the test match at the ground. It was hard to believe that it was mid-morning there, where it was early evening here. Time zones were confusing.

"About us," Clary began, recapturing my attention. "What are we?"

"We're co-workers, employee and boss, friends?"

"Jace, you know what I mean."

"I don't have an answer; I don't _know_ what we are."

"We're obviously more than friends," she said, repeating what I'd been thinking yesterday night. "But I don't know how we could label – this."

"_This_, as you so eloquently put it, is exactly whatever we want it to be."

"So we could be in a relationship?"

"Everyone's in a relationship; it's just that ours is sort of…lusty."

Her eyebrows flew up to her hairline. "Lusty."

"Yep."

"If our relationship was lusty," she said. "We would not be able to keep our hands off each other. If this was lusty, we would probably have been making out in the kitchen when I was cooking. We would probably be in your bed, right now, making love."

The thought made me a little bit hard. "I thought that you wouldn't want that. That our _relationship_ was more about work than anything else to you. Am I not right?"

Her brow furrowed, as if she was mentally battling with herself. "I can't deny that I want you." I grinned to myself – who wouldn't? "But I don't want to – what would happen when we go back to work? I don't want to be like Aline Penhallow. I don't _want_ to be just another PA. I want a proper relationship, not just sex."

_Had I ever even been in a proper relationship?_

My life had been full on one night stands and women who liked me for my body and that was all. Yet here was a woman telling me that she liked me for me, not for my body.

"So if I asked you to be my girlfriend, you'd say yes."

She looked at me rather weirdly for a few moments. "You're afraid," she told me.

"Afraid," I repeated, "of what?" I wasn't afraid of anything.

"Rejection," she said. _Afraid of rejection? _No one rejects Jace Wayland.

_Except Clarissa Fairchild._

While she'd kissed me, we'd never gone further than that. And the Angel knew that my body wanted to take it further than that. My heart, as well.

_Whoa, whoa, whoa! _Hold up there!

My heart?

I took Clary's hand in mine, swallowed my pride and said, "Clary, would you be my girlfriend?"

**DISCLAIMER: As we all well know, I don't own Cassandra Clare's **_**Mortal Instruments**_** series.**

_So, I'm back (terrible at updating, I know), but I'm afraid I will probably be on hiatus until sometime around my birthday (January 11, by the way), because I will be AT THE BEACH. And at my shack, we don't really have Internet, so… you guys will be a couple of weeks with no AYA. I'll try to write a few chapters while I'm there, though, so that I can bombard you with chapters when I return (no promises, though – small children, dogs, a cat, parents and the ocean are very distracting things)._

_Australian Words:_

Chook:_ also known as a chicken. (I wasn't sure if you say 'chook' in America, so…) And I'm assuming that barbecue chicken is sold in American supermarkets._

_On the note of Australians, if you're an Aussie: Merry Christmas for yesterday! If you're an American, Merry Christmas for today! (Yeah, yeah, our Christmas is already over. What are you guys getting, present-wise? Did Santa drop by? ;))_

_Reviews are appreciated (even though I won't reply to them immediately this time and even though they will probably be slaughter for leaving you on such a cliffie. I can't help it)._

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Maisy :) x_


	12. Chapter ELEVEN

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

While she'd kissed me, we'd never gone further than that. And the Angel knew that my body wanted to take it further than that. My heart, as well.

_Whoa, whoa, whoa! _Hold up there!

My heart?

I took Clary's hand in mine, swallowed my pride and said, "Clary, would you be my girlfriend?"

**JxC**

**Chapter ELEVEN**

_Saturday 25__th__ December_

Jace Wayland of Wayland's Perfumes had just asked me to be his girlfriend. It was all I could do not to let my jaw drop. I just stared at him, knowing I was probably giving him a bad impression. I'd never even thought – thought that Jace Wayland would be afraid of being rejected. _By me!_ I wasn't even sure if I wanted what I had hinted at, what I had almost _made_ him ask.

_Jace Wayland._

One of the best-looking, most sought after men in New York City had just asked me to be his girlfriend.

_God, I was turning into a broken record._

_ Say something, Clary!_ "I – um."

Looking at his face, I knew what I'd said before was true; he was scared of being rejected. Had he ever been rejected before in his life? His face was tight, too controlled, like he was trying so hard not to show any emotion.

Was it even right to say yes, when I wasn't sure?

"Jace, I – I don't know."

"You don't know," he murmured. And I wasn't sure that I'd ever seen him look so vulnerable.

In my hands!

"I want you, of course. Who doesn't? But I don't know if I –" _if I'm ready to have my heart broken and to lose my job and possibly my home just for you._

"If you…"

"If we can do this, if we can last, I don't want this to be just about sex. I don't," I was almost in tears now, feeling them well in my eyes. Jace made me feel so weak sometimes. "I don't want to have my heart broken and to lose everything I've ever wanted."

"How could I ever break your heart?" he asked, though I don't think he quite meant it as a question he wanted an answer to, I did answer it.

"If you found some woman who was better looking than me, hotter, more sexy, someone who – who would take you to bed and _fuck_ you. And I would –" tears spilled over my cheeks now.

_How had I become this woman? Who cries? I never used to cry. Ever._

He looked at me, sitting a good half metre away from me on the couch, a distance which he closed, wrapping himself around me, holding me to his chest, not saying a word as I cried onto his shirt.

_This was supposed to be Christmas. The happiest time of the year. And here I was bawling my eyes out on my boss, on the hottest guy in New York, a man who I couldn't help but _want. _A man who I wasn't sure if I could trust my heart with, the same man who wanted me to entrust my heart to him. Jace Wayland._

When my eyes dried up, Jace looked at my face. "So, what's your answer?"

Tears on my face, my heart made a decision. I pulled him close, and pressed my mouth against his, a quick kiss.

"If you're ready to try this, so am I," I told him, feeling my heart pound nervously in my chest. _This man could so easily break my heart._ "So long as you promise to _try_. You can't just give up because it's harder than 'most women'."

He nodded, almost eagerly.

"And one more thing: what if – what about when we go back to work?"

"Well, I'm the CEO. I make the rules. I don't care if people look down on me, if they say anything, they know well that I can just chop them off, or cut their pay."

"Maybe that works for you, but I can't do that, I'm just a PA, and I want to be liked at work. I don't want to be seen as another PA who was having it off with the boss. I'm not a slut."

"Okay, so we could keep it private at work? But Alec will know, Izzy, Magnus. They'll all know the minute they walk in the door. You're too easy to read."

"Whatever. If anyone asks, though. You have to tell them that we're actually going out, that we're not just having sex like Aline and you and however many other PAs you've had." He looked at me blankly. "Promise me, please."

"I promise. Now, can we kiss?"

The guy on the TV – one of the players – got caught out, and there was a scream from the crowd, loud in my ears. I smirked, looking at Jace. "Yeah right."

**JxC**

We went to bed together later. Just to sleep, I told Jace. We'd been official for like two hours, we were not having sex. I held his hand, we were not going to spoon either. Though I didn't doubt that when we woke we would be. Spooning, that is.

We didn't talk.

And I couldn't sleep. I watched his bedside clock tick over every minute for over an hour, thinking about various things, but mostly Jace.

It was odd, that I usually found comfort in Jace's presence when I was trying to sleep. But tonight I was thinking too much.

"Clary," Jace said out of nowhere. I thought he'd been asleep, his breathing had been slow and even.

"Mmm?" I murmured, turning my head to look at him.

"Oh, good. You are awake. Can't you sleep?"

I shook my head, rolling onto my side so that my body was facing him.

"Come here," he said, holding his arms wide for me.

I snuggled into his arms, feeling my mind settle. _God, how cliché._

"Thanks," we both murmured at the same time, laughter then shaking our bodies. I smiled at Jace, who kissed me chastely, like a husband would kiss his wife of twenty years, short but knowing that his wife knew the love, so any extra show was unnecessary.

_Going well, Clary. Definitely not going to get your heart broken when you're comparing your three-hour-old relationship to a couple who'd been together twenty years plus._

Fortunately, I managed to shake that train of thought and fall asleep soon after.

**JxC**

_Sunday 26__th__ December_

Jace's phone awoke us both early, ringing like an alarm clock at nine A.M. "Word is," I heard the man who'd called say, "that our perfumes and colognes are selling like, well, like they should be! Some big chain store – I forget which one now – rang me and told me that they'd run out already. And their store's only been open for a couple of hours."

"That's great, Sebastian." _Sebastian? Verlac?_ "But I'm kind of still in bed right now, so, I'd like to continue sleeping in until we have to start working again." He wiped away an imaginary tear as he looked at me. I just rolled my eyes.

"But we have to –"

"Please not now, Verlac. It's not a good time." _It was him._

He seemed to clue in. "_Oh._ You have a woman in your bed."

Jace smiled at me, his fingers feathering alone my jaw line. "Yes, and she's quite brilliant. I enjoy her company."

"I see where we're going here," I could almost imagine Sebastian tapping the side of his nose. "I'll bid you goodbye then."

"I'll call you later, Seb."

"Bye, Mr. Wayland."

Jace hung up and smiled at me.

"If we're getting up, then. I think I'll have a shower."

"All right," he said. "The shower is fa-_ree_."

I'd expected him to ask me if he could join me there – I would've said no anyway, but it was odd that he didn't ask.

"Cool, thanks."

As I walked into his en suite he added, "I hope the water's a little warmer than 'cool' actually."

I didn't look back as I closed the door behind me, knowing that seeing him lying in his bed, looking all cocky, confident and completely full of arrogance, would draw me to his side.

**JxC**

When I did walk out of Jace's en suite, wrapped in only a towel, Jace wasn't in his bed. So I walked into the living room, expecting to find him there, watching the TV, keeping an eye on the sales report or the stock market or something, but he was in the kitchen.

I tightened the towel around my chest as I walked up to Jace.

"Jace. What are you doing?" I asked, seeing only his bare back as he slaved over the stovetop.

"I'm cooking."

"No, duh." I said, settling down on a barstool. "What's for breakfast, Masterchef?"

"I was thinking waffles and bacon." I grinned at Jace when he turned to face me. "But just so you know, this is probably going to be a once off. I never eat this unhealthily."

"That's all right. I do all the time." I resisted the urge to poke my tongue out at him.

"I suppose that explains why you're oh-so-curvy."

I shot him a glare and he smirked. My lack of curviness had probably become quite well known after the few times we'd fallen asleep together and then woken up wrapped in each other's arms. Then yesterday, when I was standing in my room in just my underwear in front of him.

"Make me a cup of tea?" I asked with an overly sweet smile.

"How much sugar do you want in that?" he asked, smirking.

"I don't take sugar, thanks."

He plated up a waffle and some bacon, pushing it in front of me. "Yu-_um._" I said, cutting off a piece of both waffle and bacon, putting it in my mouth. "_Jace_, this is _good_."

"Izzy is a terrible cook – as I'm sure you've learnt – so when the Lightwoods adopted me, I had to learn. Neither Alec nor Max were interested in cooking, not that I am really, but they didn't care, so… I took it up. And now, I'm awesome."

I smiled, and we didn't talk and I ate until my plate was clean.

"You up for some more?"

I pursed my lips. "If I eat too much, I'll get curvy and pudgy."

"And if I like curvy and pudgy?"

"Then you probably won't be able to use me in that campaign, and then you'll have to get a new model and –" Jace leaned across the counter and kissed me, his lips on mine.

It was going to be a short, sweet kiss – I thought so, anyway, and decided I would change that. I threaded my fingers through his hair and held him against me, moving my lips hard against his.

He was the one who pulled back, and I moaned – I couldn't help it.

"And just in case you'd forgotten, you're only wearing a towel. And it's kind of wreaking havoc with my thought processes."

I swallowed hard at that, realising it was wreaking havoc with _my_ thought processes.

"And of course, I have the same effect on you," he said with a smile.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I suppose I should go and get dressed before you lose anymore brain cells, then."

"Oh, but how I love you wearing a towel."

"And how I dislike your attitude."

"Then – go on, get dressed."

"Wow" was all I said. "C'mere."

He did so, walking around the counter as I hopped off of the barstool.

Jace was in only boxers, hung low on his hips at that, a treasure trail of blond hair leading down into those boxers.

"Should I remind you that there is a staring quote?"

I raised an eyebrow. "That applies even though we're together?"

"Of course." He said.

I put my hands just above his boxers, pressing my thumbs into the dents that marked his hipbones, letting the tips dip into his waistband.

I pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"I'm going to go and get dressed," I whispered in his ear, letting go and stepping away from him.

"Yeah right," Jace said as I turned, his hands tugging on my towel.

Then when the plain white towel slipped away from my skin, I almost didn't catch it before my breasts were exposed.

"Oops," he said, spinning me around to face him as I pulled my towel tight 'round my body. "You're okay?"

"Fine," I said. "But clothes."

**JxC**

_Tuesday 4__th__ January_

Our first day back at work wasn't at all hectic like I'd been expecting. In fact, it was the opposite, everyone at work seemed to be feeling completely at ease, like we'd never been away from work.

So as Izzy and I walked in through the front door, passing the security guy who said "Isabelle, Clarissa," with a nod.

Once we were inside the building it was immediate, that feeling of ease.

And everyone seemed to be moving in this weird synchronised order. It's hard to explain.

We got in a lift with about ten other people, who got off at various floors.

I was the last one left, as I always tended to be in the mornings, getting off at the thirty-ninth floor where I was being awaited.

"Good morning, Mr. Wayland," I said, smiling, approaching my desk.

"Miss Fairchild," he replied. "Call me Jace, or else."i

"Yes, Jace. What can I do for you?"

"Today's gonna be busy, that's all. I have a few meetings to fit in. Look, here," he passed me four pieces of A4 paper, all of them with meeting times on them.

"Is this everything for today?"

"Not really. There are more people who need to talk to me, so they'll probably come here first. If you could put them into meetings tomorrow morning, that'd be great." I nodded. "Oh, and could you meet me in my office in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure thing," I said, smiling – half because I was in a good mood and half because I had a feeling that Jace didn't want me for work.

Did it make me just like Aline to look forward to kissing Jace in his office?

I hoped not.

Because I should be above that.

Fifteen minutes passed quickly as I lost myself in my thoughts and in writing down a timetable for tomorrow's meetings with the CEO.

I knocked on Jace's office door, which he had closed behind him.

"Come in," he said and I did, entering his office tentatively. "Oh, hey Clary."

I walked up to his desk, "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Not really. I just like messing with you."

I rolled my eyes. "What did you want anyway?"

He gazed at me for what felt like eternity before saying "You."

I hadn't seen Jace since I'd gotten back from my mother's New Years'/Christmas party, fate somehow managing to keep us apart. "Well, my lack of curves and I have work to do, so unless there was something important…" Now I was being teasing, I knew that.

"Very important," he said. "Come here."

I walked around his desk, leaning against it in front of him.

He was sitting in his chair, looking as though he were refraining from something.

"Lean in."

I did, my hands on the arms of his chair.

I heard his sharp intake of breath and smiled to myself.

He leaned in as well, so that his lips were close to my ear. "I need you."

My heart hammered against my ribs, my lungs working too hard and too fast.

His lips touched my ear and I shivered a good shiver.

"Don't they have security in your office?" I asked quietly.

"Cameras? Of course, but only one of them is real. And I can turn it off whenever I want."

"Is it off now?"

"Don't be silly."

I pulled away, worried. I wasn't going to have my face on a security tape while I was kissing my boss. It just wasn't a good image. And what if the security guys were gossipers?

"It is off," he said and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Now come back here."

I kissed his the top of his head. "Sorry boss, I have work to do."

"_You_ have _work_? No, you don't."

He grabbed my hips and pulled me back to him, not letting go until I was sitting in his lap.

I smiled. _Who wouldn't?_

With his arms around my waist and my hands in his hair we kissed until there was a knock at the door.

"Go figure," Jace muttered, holding me tight against his chest for a moment. "Just a minute!" he called out to whoever was behind the door.

I removed myself from his embrace and smoothed my skirt out. "Do I look okay?"

"Blouse," he said and I looked down. He was right. I tucked it into the top of my skirt and did up the buttons that had been undone.

"Now?"

"Good to go. Busy yourself with some papers."

"Come in!" he said to the door. "Now Clary, I want you to fix those up, organise them… you know the drill."

Sebastian walked in then.

"Okay, Jace. Hi Sebastian. How are you?"

"Good, thank you," he replied in a fairly dismissive tone.

I walked out of the office, snatching some papers from Jace's desk, not really looking at them.

"I'll speak to you later, Clarissa," Jace said as I was closing his office door.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **_**TMI.**_** But go figure, I'm just a lowly FF writer ;).**

_I'm not really sure if you have massive sales the day after Christmas in the US. I know that you have 'Black Friday' sales after Thanksgiving (or so the Internet told me), but in Australia, we have these massive sales on Boxing Day (the day after Christmas – do you call it Boxing Day?) and shops open early and it's, well, pretty cool. But I don't usually go. I'm too busy sleeping in ;)._

_As for 'Masterchef,' I'm sure you probably have similar TV shows in America, it's a rather popular cooking show in Australia. Ordinary people battle it out against each other in the kitchen, getting their food judged and getting stressed out. I don't really like it, but it's okay, I suppose._

_I also wanted to thank my anon. reviewers who have names (since I can't review reply):_ amylangue, Brittanica_ and _Mari Wright_ :). But I can't forget all of my reviewers, you guys make my heart rise like yeast to the stars, every time I see a review come up I can't help but smile. (In other words: remember to review ;)!)_

_Love you all,_

_~Maisy :) x_


	13. Chapter TWELVE

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"Okay, Jace. Hi Sebastian. How are you?"

"Good, thank you," he replied in a fairly dismissive tone.

I walked out of the office, snatching some papers from Jace's desk, not really looking at them.

"I'll speak to you later, Clarissa," Jace said as I was closing his office door.

**JxC**

**Chapter TWELVE**

_Tuesday 4__th__ January_

Somehow I managed to convince Jace to let me take my lunch break early, so that it matched with Simon's, since I hadn't seen him in so long. Now seemed like a better time than any to talk to him again.

"Si," I smiled as I met him outside of the building. "How are you?"

"Not bad," he grinned. "How about you?"

"Well, actually, thank you."

We walked to a café for lunch, taking a seat by the window once we'd ordered our food at the counter. "How's life?" he asked me. "Anything exciting been happening in the world of Clarissa Morgenstern?"

_Jace Wayland,_ I thought. "Fairchild now, Si. Not Morgenstern. And other than getting the job here and moving in with Izzy, catching up with you not much has really happened. You? Got a girlfriend yet?"

And Simon blushed. _Blushed!_ "I'm going to take that as a yes," I said with a smile. "C'mon, what's her name? You went to the Christmas do with Isabelle, her?"

"I'm dating a girl called Maia."

"What about Izzy?" I asked, suddenly feeling defensive. Simon or not, it wasn't cool to be going out with two girls at once.

"Well… I like her too."

"God, Simon. Sometimes I wonder about you."

"I know it's bad, but –"

"But nothing."

"I don't want to break their hearts."

"It's better to break a girl's heart than it is to have her find out you were dating someone else and have to deal with the crap she'll give you for it. Trust me on this?"

"Of course I trust you, but it's not as simple as that."

"Isn't it?" I asked, then the waitress called out our number. "Saved by the bell," I told him, getting up to collect our food.

When I returned, our tray balanced on my hand, Simon had his phone out and was texting away.

"Rude much," I muttered as I sat down, though I said it without feeling – I didn't mean it at all. "Who're you texting?"

"Izzy," he told me, opening his bottle of lemonade.

"I hope you didn't just dump her by text. Because that's just – horrid."

"Are you crazy? Of course I didn't. I was asking her if she wanted to go to dinner."

"You can't dump her over dinner either!"

"I'm not dumping Izzy!"

"So you're dumping Maia?"

He looked away, not meeting my eyes as he said "No."

I growled to myself, but sighed, holding it in. "Fine. Your problem. I didn't come here to argue with you. How's your I.T. stuff going?"

"Oh, it's thrilling. However, I did get boosted up to a permanent employee, which is always a plus. I hope it wasn't you who told Wayland to do that."

"I did nothing of the sort. He does know that we're friends, though. So who knows?"

My phone vibrated in my pocket, indicating an incoming call.

"Do you mind, Si?"

"Go for it," he said, taking a bite of his roll.

I checked the caller ID, realising that Jace had changed his name and picture on my new iPhone – my mother's Christmas gift to me – to _Your Secret Admirer_; still, I had to be normal around Simon. And you don't even want to know what the picture was, but I think it's enough to say that I wasn't sure if it would be legal.

"Hello, Clary Fairchild speaking."

"Clary, dammit. You're supposed to be shocked at my new name or something, and the picture."

"Well, I'm not. I'm at lunch, so I can't act surprised."

"Did you go to lunch with Lewis?"

"Yup. I am having lunch with _Simon_ because we're _friends_ and that's what friends do."

"Actually, that's what people who are _together_ do. No, wait, I changed my mind. People who are together kiss and have sex."

"Well, I'm sorry to be a disappointment to you. Did you call to say anything important at all, Wayland?"

There was no voice at the other end of the line.

"Wayland? You all right?"

Simon smirked at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Fine," he said, sounding like he had to choke it out. "But you should probably reserve that until we're home alone, Fairchild."

I had to repress the shiver that threatened to course through my body. "I think I understand what you mean." He was right; it held a certain amount of…well, sexual tension.

"I'm glad we're on the same page. In any case, I'd like you to come back to the office as soon as you finish your lunch. Don't dawdle too much, all right? I need you ASAP."

"Of course. I'll be maybe half an hour max?"

"Good. I just wanted to make sure. See you soon, babe."

"Ew, drop that. Goodbye Wayland."

I heard him sigh and then suck in a breath to say something back but I hung up before he could.

"What does Wayland have to drop?" Simon asked, sipping on his lemonade again.

"He has a nickname for me that I don't really like."

"Oh, what is it?"

"I am_ so_ not telling you."

"It's that bad?"

"Yes," I said. _You have no idea._

**JxC**

Back in the office, Jace had apparently tried to put in a meeting time on my – new, latest technology, work Christmas/New Years' present – iPad organiser and completely screwed something up, eventually realising that he'd probably better stop pressing buttons before he made it a trillion times worse.

And when I saw what had happened, it took me about five minutes to smooth it out. "I've worked it out," I announced as I walked into his office. "Is there anything else I could do – for – you?"

Jace Wayland was lounging on his couch, his tie on the coffee table, suit jacket thrown over the back of his desk chair, most of his shirt buttons undone. And hence the breaks in my sentence, as my mind absorbed the way he was laying, his arm above his head, the true image of pure relaxation. He didn't even bat a closed eyelid as I closed his door. "How do you turn off the camera?" I asked him.

"There's a button on the floor underneath my desk," he told me, looking like he was fighting back a grin.

I flicked the camera and my heels off.

"I'm becoming way too attracted to you."

"Impossible," he said. "I look forward to the day when you do let me have sex with you."

"The day that happens," I told him, sitting down beside his hips, "will be the day when your attitude changes and you tell me that you want to make love to me, not just have sex with me."

He opened his eyes, looking at me, making blood rise to my cheeks. "Let me make love to you."

"That was not an attitude change, that was just you wanting sex."

"It _was_ a change in attitude. Normally I let women fuck me, not have sex with me."

"Well, you need to go further than that."

"Of course I do," he muttered. "But until then… come here."

I moved closer to him, resting my hand over his heart, leaning in close.

"Wait up a minute."

_"Jace,"_ I whined, "you cannot be serious!"

Apparently he was, he got up and went over to his desk, dialling in a number as I slumped on his couch, laying back like he had been earlier.

"Hi Kaelie. Can you hold all of my calls until, say, two? . . . Great, thank you. Bye Kaelie."

I heard the noise of his computer powering down and then, since I turned to watch him, saw him touch the screen of his iPhone – I supposed he was turning it on silent.

"I'm dealt with," he announced, sauntering over to where I was. "I dunno if you are, but it doesn't matter. You're only a lowly PA, after all." This last sentence was accompanied by his signature smirk.

Like me, he took his shoes off and they flew across the room.

He grabbed a tiny remote, flicked a heap of buttons and then finally settled down beside me, undoing three of my blouse buttons – revealing my white singlet – whilst I tried to keep my heartbeat and breathing to a normal speed – which was proving to be really difficult.

"Curious," I murmured between breaths as Jace's fingers danced up and down my sides, "why do you always undo my buttons when you know this isn't going to go anywhere?"

"Because it's like _pressing_ your buttons, and it turns you on. Doesn't it?"

_If only he knew._ I could only nod.

He stood again and I tried – and failed – not to moan at his pulling away _again_.

He stripped himself of his white button-up and then his Bonds Chestie.

I took in a long, slow, deep breath as he leaned over me.

"What do you think? I do ever so hope that you won't push me away this time."

"And if I did?"

"Obviously, I'd have to try harder."

I smiled at this, lifting my hands up to rest on his broad, tanned, bare shoulders.

His lips met mine with an eagerness that I was sure would never, ever get old. One of his hands rested on my waist, his fingers massaging the flesh there. His other hand was supporting his weight as he hovered over me.

When he pulled away, it was only to take a breath and reposition himself, his body lying along the line of mine.

Again with that eagerness.

I was sure that I was losing brain cells right now.

Then when his hand cupped my breast, even through the protection of my singlet and bra – my shirt now pushed aside – I couldn't help but gasp into Jace's mouth. It was a gasp of pleasure, I can't deny that, but I wasn't sure if it was what I wanted or not, going further.

I'm not a virgin, there's no way, but I've only had sex with two guys in my life, and the last time was well over six months ago. Suffice to say, I took making love a little more seriously than Jace Wayland probably ever would in his lifetime.

"Jace, I –" I tried to say against his lips, but his hand squeezed and I yelped into his mouth. I broke our kiss, my breathing still laboured. "Jace, hold on." His lips were on my neck, my collarbones, sucking and nipping. _"Jace, please."_

"Clary," he said, not moving his hand.

"I'm not sure if – if this isn't too fast. For me."

He was holding in disappointment, that much was obvious. "I don't intend on making you have sex with me here, now. We're _together_. Even _I_ would like our first act of sex not to happen in my office."

"I'm glad," I said, realising I'd been biting my lip I released it from between my teeth. "But –"

"But?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure…" _Not sure where I was going with this at all. _I only knew that I was attracted to Jace Wayland, knew that somehow this was all too fast, even if I wasn't entirely sure why.

"Not sure," he repeated.

_Forget about it, _I told myself. "No, don't worry," I told Jace, with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

He didn't look like he believed me completely, but he obviously wasn't going to hold out on a kissing session with his girlfriend.

_Girlfriend,_ I thought as he leaned in close, about to press his lips to mine until he said "What?" pulling back, sitting up, leaving me feeling cold. "What did you say?"

"I didn't mean to say that aloud," I said as the realisation hit me: that I'd said _girlfriend_ aloud. "I was just thinking that," I couldn't keep the smile off my face – Jace probably thought that I was crazy, "it's so weird, in a really good way, of course, that I'm your girlfriend. God."

"Well, if it means anything, I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever been a boyfriend to anyone. A proper one, at least."

I smiled. "You're duffer, then. You've been missing out."

"On you, certainly." He grinned. _Was it even possible that the arrogant, cocky Jace Wayland had a softer side? No way. _"Now come here," he said, patting his lap.

I hitched my skirt up – feeling incredibly unprofessional – so that I could sit with my legs on either side of Jace's.

He held my face carefully in his palms and kissed me on the lips. Jace's kisses this time started out slow and sweet – of course they did, especially when all I wanted was hard and hot almost-sex kisses – but I let him make the pace, which he eventually hastened until I was digging my fingertips into his back with need, trying to contain it. When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me, then his lips moved to my neck, making my back arch into him and his hands moved to my blouse, undoing the rest of my buttons. He pushed my blouse off of my shoulders, and I wriggled my arms out of the long sleeves. I couldn't help but moan as Jace bit down hard on my collarbone.

It seemed to me that he was the one doing the pleasuring, whilst all I was doing was being pleasured. When I told him this, in between heavy breaths, his reply was "Your reactions are pleasure enough for me," he'd pulled back for the tiniest moment, only to smirk at me. "As if you can't feel that." And because I'd lost so many brain cells in the past twenty minutes or so, for a moment I thought that he meant some kind of mind-reading connection, that I should be able to _know_. Of course, he chose that moment to push his hips up off the couch, knocking us closer together and I truly _felt_ what he meant.

I felt what he'd meant pressed against the apex of my legs; the only things keeping us apart my undies and stockings and his dress pants and boxers – well, presumably anyway, since I doubted he was commando. Anyway, at this, _him_ against _me_ properly, I whimpered.

"I thought as much" was all he said before kissing me again.

**JxC**

Jace was wearing a grimace on his face when he walked out of his office and five o'clock, which was unusual; normally he was grinning from ear to ear, glad to be going home.

"Hey Jace, you all right?" I hadn't seen much of him in the past four hours, he'd been locked up in his office and I'd been working at my desk.

"I'd be lying if I said I was feeling fan-bloody-tastic. I have to stay late tonight, to like nine maybe."

"Are you implying that you'd like me to hang around?"

"I'd love you to, but I wouldn't make you; no matter how much I wanted the company. We'd have to order in, Chinese or something? As much as I hate junk food."

I grinned at Jace. "I know this brilliant little Chinese place, they deliver and due to my connections I get all deliveries free of charge."

"Now that sounds fantastic," he smiled at me. "You get that, and I'll go and start finishing up. The quicker we get out of here the better."

I took my iPhone out and found Luke's number in my contacts. He only took half a ring to pick up.

"Luke Garroway."

"You can't be serious, Luke. As if you don't have my number in your phone!"

"Clary? Clary, how are you?"

"I'm great thanks, you and Mum?"

"We're well, of course. Work's all right then? No men that I have to growl at for you?"

"No, Papa Wolf. No horrid men that need scaring off. I called to order Chinese, actually."

"Of course. I should've known you didn't just want to say hi."

"You're terrible," I told him. "Chinese for two, all right? Just throw in whatever. And say hello to Mum for me."

"Yeah, I will. And I can do that. Where are you?"

"I'm still at work, gonna be here late."

"Aw, that sucks."

"I'll manage," I said, trying not to sound too excited.

"Something tells me that –"

"Don't even go there, Lucian. I miss you, and Mum. Now I have to go. Goodbye, love you!"

"Love you too, Clare-bear. Your food'll be there soon."

"Thanks," I said, smiling. I hung up and told Jace that our dinner was on its way. He kissed me on the lips once as a thanks and squeezed my hand.

"Just one thing," I said. Jace looked up at me, met my eyes. "Did you notice that we tend to do a lot of making out and everything? We should go on a date or something. Later."

"Of course we do. I love kissing you."

"A date," I repeated.

He smirked. "Are you asking me out?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I am. Unless you're too chicken to say yes?"

He pushed his chest out in a huff. "No way. Let's go on a date. Name it, time and place. We'll do it. Well," he digressed, "as long as it isn't tonight. Or a chick flick."

"You're on," I said, kissing his cheek before heading back out to my desk, running through my emails.

I had four new emails – one from Isabelle, Simon, Caitlin Davies (Jace's agent) and one from Sebastian Verlac.

The first three were completely harmless in comparison to the email that Sebastian Verlac had sent me.

_Clary, you're an idiotic little girl. You live in your perfectly manicured world, but really, you have no idea of the terrors that await you in the real world. Sebastian._

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI**_** or its characters. That pleasure belongs only to Cassie Clare. (However, I **_**do**_** get the pleasure of throwing whatever mishaps and circumstances I want upon them.)**

_On a completely different note (I wrote this on 31/12/10) I just finished reading The Hunger Games the other day. And it is actually freaking fabulous. I mean no offence, but I thought it was better than _TMI_ – it was just so original! (And I could never write a FF about it__ – though I did say the same thing about _TMI _when I'd finished it...)__ I finished reading _Fallen_, which was so _Twilight_y that it was weird, but it was better, I thought, anyway._

_Did you all enjoy the presence of Simon in this chapter? Not to mention the mass amount of FLUFF? :D Oh, and the cliffie? ;)_

_Reviews are lovely!_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Maisy :) x_


	14. Chapter THIRTEEN

_I should probably warn you (much as I hate spoilers) of the almost-sexual content in this chapter. Brave it if you dare! (My first almost-lemon.)_

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

I had four new emails – one from Isabelle, Simon, Caitlin Davies (Jace's agent) and one from Sebastian Verlac.

The first three were completely harmless in comparison to the email that Sebastian Verlac had sent me.

_Clary, you're an idiotic little girl. You live in your perfectly manicured world, but really, you have no idea of the terrors that await you in the real world. Sebastian._

**JxC**

**Chapter THIRTEEN**

_Tuesday 3__rd__ January_

I couldn't help but chew on my lip. How could Sebastian be so up and down? On Boxing Day, he'd called Jace, all cheery, and this morning, he'd looked at me like I was a pest. Surely he couldn't be mad at me for moving out of the apartment building we'd shared? He'd been so nice then, too, offering to help me clean up. I re-read the email about twenty times before I realised that I should possibly tell Jace about this. But then again, I could fight my own battles. I didn't need my boyfriend to get all involved in my business.

_You know what Jace would say. He'd say: You _are_ my business, Clary._

I flagged the email, even though I doubted that I would forget it.

I spent my time reorganising all of the stuff on my iPad, labelling it properly, telling myself that I would always be clear when I entered anything, to avoid any possible confusion.

My phone rang.

"Hello, Clarissa Fairchild speaking."

"Hi Clarissa, it's Xavier. There's a kid down here with some Chinese food. Am I good to let her in?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Xavier."

He hung up and five minutes later a girl got off the lift, bags of Chinese in her hands.

"Hi, you must be Clary. I'm Maia and here's your food."

"Maia," I said slowly, "are you going out with Simon Lewis?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"He works here; we're friends," I smiled. I was _so_ not going to be the one to tell her about Izzy. "Anyway. How much do I owe you?"

"Luke said not to worry about it, that you can pay him back later."

"You're sure?"

"Uh-huh."

I took my purse out of my handbag anyway. "I should thank you for coming all this way, though. Here," I passed her a five dollar note, hoping it would be enough.

"Thanks, Clary. Maybe we'll meet again sometime."

I smiled. "I'd like that. At Luke's maybe."

She smiled too. "Bye."

"Bye, have a good night."

"You too," she said, leaving the bags on my desk and walking into the lift hallway, disappearing out of sight.

I took the bags into Jace's office, not knocking.

"– I know, but we can't – Look, can you call me back tomorrow? It's getting late, and I really prefer to be in bed at this hour." He laughed. "Yes, something like that. Goodbye. Yeah, that'll be fine." He set his phone back down on the receiver. "And dinner arrives," he announced, brightening considerably.

"Sure does," I agreed with a smile.

"On a more…completely different note, I saw that email." _Should've seen that coming. Of course all of my unusual emails would be mentioned to Jace._ "You can tell Caitlin that I'm in. All right?"

"Oh, _oh_. Of course, Jace."

_Thank the Heavens._

"Now, I think it's time for some dinner." He stood and walked over to sit on the lounge. "Here, sit down."

I sat beside him, leaning against his side.

"You all right?"

And I was sort of lying again. "Yeah, I'm good. Just getting a bit tired, you know."

He nodded in agreement. "Christmas/New Years' is always really busy for us."

I picked up a box and a pair of chopsticks. "Dig in, I guess."

And we did, eating silently for a good part of a quarter of an hour.

_Was it unfair of me, to keep that email from Jace? Sure, I was a woman and I could take care of myself. But sometimes I wondered if Jace could see that. Should I tell him? Should I worry him with my own little troubles?_

_ You're an idiotic little girl,_ I thought, the words ringing in my ears as if Sebastian had spoken them. _You have no idea of the terrors that await you in the real world._ Terrors?

"You sure you're okay? You look kind of pale."

I took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm fine."

**JxC**

Somehow, I managed to convince Jace that I didn't need him to cuddle me to sleep tonight, instead I went to bed alone – Isabelle was God-knows-where and our apartment was quiet. Of course, I kept thinking back to Sebastian's email – what else would I be doing? – wondering what he meant.

I was left with this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn't settle it. It was already two A.M., I was nowhere near sleep, and I hadn't been for three hours. I wasn't going to call Jace, though. I knew he would calm my mind, at least in the now, but he couldn't help me in the long run – not unless I decided that I needed his help. And I didn't.

But that didn't make this whole thing any less scary.

What Sebastian had meant…

Maybe it'd just been a joke.

It was entirely possible that it had just been a joke.

I managed to find comfort in that thought and fall asleep – albeit restlessly, I woke almost every hour on the hour.

My phone woke me on Wednesday morning and I answered it, glancing at the time as I opened my mouth to speak – "Oh, _shit_."

"Hello, Clary. It's good to know you're awake and on your way to work."

It was Jace. "I'm so sorry! I – I couldn't sleep and then when I did fall asleep I overslept and _shit_."

"Calm down, woman. I'm on my way to pick you up, so get ready."

"Okay, okay," I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. "I'll be ready in ten."

And I was.

**JxC**

_Saturday 15__th__ January_

I knew I was dreaming from the moment when I saw Jace walking down the wide street in a lime green suit – he had better taste than _that_. He stalked right past me, as if he hadn't seen me at all. I called out his name, but he didn't even twitch at the sound. I chased after him, grabbing his shoulder; finally he turned, seeing me. But it wasn't my Jace, this Jace was scowling just like my brother always had when something didn't quite go his way. "What do you want, you idiotic little girl?" he snapped, whacking my hand away from him.

I bit my lip. "Jace, I –"

"No," he said. "You do not understand the terror of this world, not at all. You can't _see_ anything! There are _demons_ in this world, Clary, but you're too naïve to see them!"

His voice remained sharp and I felt tears well in my eyes. _Terrors. Demons. _Though I knew it was a dream, there was nothing I could do but run. I turned away from this Jace, and I ran down the street. _Away, away, I must get _away_!_

Then he was in my face, his hands holding my shoulders tight. I was laying in soft snow on the ground, but oddly it wasn't cold. _This was a dream,_ I thought.

"Clary. _Clary!_"

I shook my head and tried to push him off me. _He had _no_ right!_ _Not after all he said, proving that he was in cohorts with Sebastian and his email!_ "Get _off_ of me!" I yelled, throwing all of my strength into a final push, which had him flying off me, landing in the snow as well.

"Clary, you need to wake up," he said, his voice soft. "Clary, I'm not trying to hurt you." He cupped my cheek, looking into my eyes. I stared back at his, their gold colour with flecks that I'd never seen before, sure I could never imagine.

"Please. There's no one else I can mess around with but you. Wake up."

I pulled my eyes into focus, looking harder at Jace. I realised that we were in his bedroom. Safe and sound.

_You idiotic little girl!_

I shivered and threw myself into his arms, pressing my face into his chest.

"You're okay," he murmured, smoothing his hand over my hair over and over again, like Jocelyn had done when I was younger. "You're okay."

"I'm awake," I whispered. "I'm safe, so safe."

"Yes, Clary."

"Jace?" I asked, pulling back so that I could focus on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave me."

"I won't," he murmured. "I don't have to work today."

_It was a Saturday; I was so glad._

He let me rest in his embrace for a long time. I think I must've fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes, he wasn't in bed.

The shower was running in his en suite.

Without a second thought I got out of his bed – remembering that I was wearing his old blue long sleeved t-shirt and my grey boyshorts – and walked into his en suite (he never, ever bothered to lock it – I supposed he thought he had nothing to hide…), closing the door behind me with a small click.

The glass shower screen was fogged up almost entirely, except for a small circle that had obviously been rubbed clear. Suffice to say, all that I could see clearly of Jace was the side of his head. I leaned against the door, glad to be in his presence again.

Finally when he looked out at me, his eyes widened.

I tugged at the hem of Jace's old shirt and looked down at my feet for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

"I – um."

"It's all right," he smiled. "Did you want to join me?"

I went to shake my head – _I didn't want to get in a shower with Jace. Naked. So not ready for that _– but I ended up nodding.

He almost looked shocked.

I opened the glass shower screen door and held myself away from the spray of the water. This shower was clearly made for two, with two showerheads installed into the ceiling – those rainfall type ones that you didn't get unless you had them specially installed or lived in the penthouse – but Jace only had one turned on.

I was trying exceptionally hard to keep my eyes above his waistline, but I'm only human and my gaze might have slipped a few times. I'd been right before: he had nothing to hide at all.

"You're not nude," Jace pointed out.

_Good job, Captain Obvious,_ I thought, out loud I said "No."

"Most people shower with_out_ clothes on, you know."

"I do," I told him, "know, that is."

He held out his hand and I placed my palm in his, his fingers tightening around mine. He pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me.

"You promised you wouldn't leave," I murmured as the water fell over us.

"You were sleeping, and I do need to shower. Despite how sexy I am, I'd be slightly less so if I was always sweaty."

I put my hands on his ribs and pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss him. "You know you'd be sexy anyway," I told him, as if he needed the ego boost. Which he so did not.

"That's true," he agreed, leaning down to kiss me.

"Did you wash your hair yet?" I asked, trying to ignore the fact that my undies were wet, that they would've been damp even if I hadn't've stepped under the water.

He nodded. "I was just about to start soaping up when you walked in."

I bit down hard on my lip, then licking my lips.

"You're just too cute," he said. "Here's the soap." That last sentence like he just automatically _assumed_ that I wanted the excuse to touch him all over.

_Like all hell you don't,_ I told myself. _You want it._

And with the white, manly-smelling soap in my palm, there wasn't much else I could do really; I started with his shoulders and neck, massaging the soap into his skin. When I pushed the sleeves up on Jace's shirt, he gave me a small smile.

"You know, I can only think of one place where that shirt would look better – other than on you."

"Oh? Where?" I said, though I had a reasonable idea of what his next words were going to be.

Now he smirked. "On the floor, of course."

I pulled the sleeves back down to my wrists, watching the disappointment form on his face. I lifted my palms up, closing his eyes with my fingertips. "Don't peek," I murmured and he groaned, but kept his eyes closed.

I took my hands to the hem of his shirt, stepping out of the spray only to struggle in tugging the damned thing over my head. My wrists got caught in the sleeves, but when I finally had it on the tiled floor of the shower I hopped back under the water.

Now in only my undies, I stood before Jace, letting the water pour over my skin. I wasn't sure if I should be dreading his reaction or anticipating it, but when I put my hands over his, he opened his eyes, his gaze going straight to my chest – of course.

I looked up at him, seeing droplets of water collected on his eyelashes.

He moved his hands to rest on my ribs, his thumbs tucked under my small breasts. I awaited his reaction, he still hadn't said anything nor met my eyes.

Instead he pushed his mouth on mine, hard.

And as much as I loved the feel of his mouth, and the way I could braid my fingers through his hair. I wasn't sure if his kiss was a good reaction or a distraction. I broke it, even as his hands slipped down to rest on my bum.

"Jace, say something."

He met my eyes with his. "You're gorgeous, Clary. Just –"

"Small," I finished for him.

"You _are_ small, Clary. You've never been tall or oh-so-curvy, I've always known that. Like I said, you're gorgeous, beautiful, perfect."

I kissed him on the lips quickly. "Thank you," I whispered.

"I'll finish soaping myself, I think. I'm not sure how much more I could handle of your hands on me without – well, you know."

I looked down – of course I looked down! – he was hard, that was for sure. I swallowed. "Yeah, I – I understand."

To distract myself, I stole his shampoo and lathered my hair up until I was sure that my hair probably looked like a bad, white, bubbly afro.

I knew that, at the moment, my attraction to Jace was no doubt obvious, if only for my nipples, which were almost hurting with how erect they were. I also knew when Jace had finished soaping, because he put his hands into his hair and helped me get the shampoo out.

A few times, our fingers would crash into each other as we tried to work through my knots to get all of the bubbles out.

"Silky smooth," Jace cooed when it was all gone.

I swatted his arm and rolled my eyes. "Yeah right, Wayland."

Next thing I knew, Jace's body had me pinned against the cold tile wall. I moaned as he pushed his hips forward, his erection against the top of my undies.

"Fairchild" was all he said before pulling back only to spin me and press my back against the wall. "God. What we could_ do._" His erection now pushed against my stomach and he held my breasts in his hands, rolling my flesh in his hands.

I moaned, unable to help it when my hips bucked forward, not quite meeting his hard-on. Jace groaned.

"Jace, w-we shouldn't."

"I know," he said, grunting, "but you realise that –"

"Yes. I want you – need you – too. But this is so soon."

"We've been together for almost three weeks now."

"Exactly," I said. "And you still want to have _sex_ with me, don't you?"

He nodded.

"You know my rules, Jace."

I stretched up, kissing him.

He took one of my hands in his and wrapped our hands around his penis.

I didn't mean to sound so wanton and simple, but all I could say against his lips was, "You're so hard."

And all he said was "I know."

He began to move our hands up and down his length, not stopping – not our hands, not his other hand (which was feeling up and down my body), nor our lips – until he'd found his release. Which came all over my lower stomach, dripping down into the fabric of my undies, soaking in.

While he was still breathing hard, his forehead rested against the wall beside my head, I kissed along his shoulder and neck.

"Jace…" I murmured.

"Clary," he whispered back, turning the water off.

I smiled, almost smirking. "You owe me some new undies."

**JxC**

Alec and Magnus had disappeared earlier in the morning, Jace told me later, on an un-date. So we'd been home alone whilst we were in the shower, and I was very glad for that, I'd been afraid that Alec might've overheard us. That would've been _très_ embarrassing.

As well as the fact that I was walking around the penthouse in a pair of Jace's boxers, jeans and a button down shirt which he had refused to allow me to actually button up.

I'd found one of the novels that I'd left here, settled down on the sofa and began to read where I'd finished last time.

Sebastian Verlac's email right at the back of my mind.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI**_**, but we all knew that. Cassie Clare does.**

_I've started reading _Torment _(the second novel in the_ Fallen _series) and I have to say its similarities to _Twilight_ just become more and more striking. It's really weird. Anyway. I hope you're all enjoying your winter while I spend my days on the beach! (Even if my beach doesn't really get much beach weather… usually I just walk through the shallows, barely getting my ankles wet instead of swimming because the water coming off the Southern Ocean is fa-reezing. Like right now, the sun isn't even out. How am I supposed to get a tan if there is no sun!) On a completely irrelevant note: I have dog slobber on my foot – which is quite gross._

_Reviews are appreciated as ever._

_Love you all,_

_~Maisy :) x_


	15. Chapter FOURTEEN

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

As well as the fact that I was walking around the penthouse in a pair of Jace's boxers, jeans and a button down shirt which he had refused to allow me to actually button up.

I'd found one of the novels that I'd left here, settled down on the sofa and began to read where I'd finished last time.

Sebastian Verlac's email right at the back of my mind.

**JxC**

**Chapter FOURTEEN**

_Monday 17__th__ January_

Unfortunately, that kind of bliss doesn't last for long. Once I was back at work, Sebastian Verlac was at the forefront of my mind. It seemed that he was unavoidable, he was always visiting Jace in his office to talk about how well sales were doing or running into me in the elevator – a situation which never failed to be entirely too awkward; sometimes I got off at Isabelle's floor just to get out of there.

Except this time, there was no escape. He was going to floor 39, and so was I. "You never replied to my email," he said suddenly, without meeting my eyes.

"No," I agreed.

"You don't understand." He turned to me, looking at me hard.

"No? Tell me, then."

"There are angels and demons in this world," Sebastian said, his voice entirely serious. "Downworlders, Clarissa. They're trying to take over, and we – the Nephilim – have to protect the world! Girls like you don't See anything!"

"I'm confused. What does this have to do with me, exactly?"

"Jace," he said. "He is Nephilim. So are some of your friends."

"And you are Nephilim? Is this like a religion?"

"According to the government, it's a cult."

When the lift _ding_ed, I was so glad to be out of Sebastian's presence. Whilst when I'd first met Sebastian he'd seemed quite nice, now I wasn't so sure that he wasn't a little bit crazy.

And I had always wondered what Jace had meant when he said "By the Angel" instead of "God" like most people. Maybe this was why . . . but if Jace was hell-bent on protecting the world from angels, demons and downworlders that didn't exist, would that change our relationship?

Sebastian stepped out of the elevator as well, going straight to Jace's office.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer I pulled up Mozilla Firefox, Googling "Nephilim".

Wikipedia said, in short, that Nephilim were indeed a cult, and that they believed in the Angel Raziel – who was alike to a god. Or something. I chewed down on my lip, I didn't really get it.

I'd get Jace to explain it. I could only hope, though, that he wasn't as crazy as Sebastian.

Verlac spent a good half hour in Jace's office, talking about only God knew what – _Angel knew what_? – before he left, looking quite pleased.

"Hey, Clary," Jace called, "can you come here for a minute?"

I went into his office, closing the door behind me.

"Sebastian was telling me that you've been prying into his life – his religion. I've known Seb a long time, Clary.

"I-It wasn't quite like that."

"Then what was it like?" When I didn't say anything he said, "Tell me, Clary. This is big."

I wouldn't be able to explain it to him, without showing him the email. "Jace, I –"

"I don't want to have to fire you over this, Fairchild. But I will not have you sticking your nose into anyone's business where it isn't wanted. And Sebastian doesn't want it."

Would showing Jace the email be dobbing Sebastian in? "I'm not sure if –"

Jace leaned across his desk, "Come here."

I leaned across the desk, just as Jace was.

"You _have_ to tell me," he whispered.

"I'll come back in a sec, all right?" I whispered back.

I didn't give Jace a chance to reply, I went to my desk and transferred the email across to my iPad screen. I took it into Jace's office, setting it in front of him.

"What is this?" he asked me.

"In-office bullying? I don't know. Then in the lift just now, he started telling me about how there are angels, and there are demons and downworlders trying to take over the world and something about Nephilim and then I –"

"You what?" he reread the email. "He wrote all this to you?"

"Well, I assume so. I'd hardly fake something like this. In fact, I would never. I think I'd rather lose my job than stoop to that."

"I find it hard to believe that Seb would write this."

"It wasn't me, Jace. I swear –"

"I can't see you doing it either, Clary. Especially not you. No one but Seb would've had access to his email, though. I'll get the techies to have a look at it. As for now, it's almost time to go home. Do you want to knock off early?"

I nodded, probably too eagerly.

Jace stood, straightening his blue silk tie.

"Kiss?" I murmured.

"I thought you'd never –" but I cut him off, climbing over his desk – way out of character for me, I knew, but I craved the comfort that only he seemed to be able to provide – I wrapped my hand around his tie, pulling him down to meet my lips.

When I broke away from him, I smiled.

"Let us be gone," he said.

**JxC**

Isabelle asked me, once she'd arrived home, if I wouldn't mind spending the night at Jace's instead of here. Despite the fact that she'd never said in so many words, I was fairly certain that she knew about Jace and I – especially since I'd been splitting my time fairly equally between his and ours.

"Who's coming over?" I asked, wondering if it was Simon.

Turned out that I was right. "Simon Lewis, your old best friend? That nerdy guy in I.T."

"I'm pretty sure they're all nerdy in I.T.," I told her. "Do you mind if I hang around until he gets here? I kind of need to talk to him about something."

Izzy raised an eyebrow. "Is this about me?"

"Not at all." _At least, not in the way that you're probably thinking. _Since she seemed satisfied with my answer, I asked her if she'd like a cup of tea, coffee or Milo.

She shook her head, "I could go for a glass of champers right now, but we don't have any, do we? Instead, I shall have a raspberry Cruiser," and she disappeared into the laundry – where we stashed all of our alcohol.

It was only another half an hour before Simon turned up, and I asked to speak to him in the hallway. He agreed, though reluctantly.

"Si," I began, "you're still going out with Maia. And Isabelle."

"I _know_," he said. "I'm trying to work it out."

"Well, you're going to have to make a decision. I told you, if you don't you're gonna lose both of them. And for God's sake, don't tell them the complete truth, they'll go bananas. But then again, girls like the truth . . . Oh well. Your problem, Si. There's only so much I can do."

I popped back in to say goodbye to Izzy and grab a change of clothes for the next day at work, knowing that pyjamas were completely unnecessary – I slept in Jace's blue long-sleeved shirt and my undies when I was there, every time.

After a short ride in the elevator, I got out and knocked on Jace and Alec's front door, not getting any response I said, "Hello?' quite loudly. Finally resorting to ringing the doorbell.

A minute later, just as I was about to push the button again, Magnus opened the door.

"Hi Clary, what's up?"

"More like, what's up with your hair?" I said, looking at it, even more dishevelled than his usual. He gave me a pointed look and I clued in, saying _"Oh."_

"Shh, 'kay?" He let me in.

"Sure thing. Jace is in, right? Is he in his room?"

"As far as I know, Sweetheart, he is in his room. And I would like for him to remain there for at least another hour and a half."

I dashed to his room, waving to Alec, not letting my eyes linger on him to see how messed up he was, how his shirt was totally unbuttoned and how he had several hickeys showing across his chest and neck – _oops._

I pushed those thoughts from my mind and knocked on Jace's door, surprised to find it locked. "Jace?"

"Clary? I didn't think you were coming up tonight," after a moments hesitation came his reply.

"Let me in, please."

His door opened a crack, "Why are you here?"

_What was up with him?_ "Well, because I'm your girlfriend for starters, and because Izzy kicked me out – tonight, anyway. Do I have to have a reason?"

He let me in, and closed the door behind me, locking it. "So you didn't come here to rat Seb out again?"

"God no. But I did want to ask you about something he said . . . he said that you were the same as him Neff – Neffie –"

"Nephilim," he said, sounding exasperated.

"Are you?"

"Nephilim? Yes."

"So you believe that there are demons and angels and downworlders running about the Earth trying to take everything over?" I sat down on the end of his bed.

"For one, Angels would never try to take over the world. Two, no, I don't. Demons and Downworlders no longer exist, they were wiped out eons ago. Only some Nephilim believe that Demons and Downworlders still exist, and that it is their life duty to keep the world in human hands."

"And Sebastian is one of these?"

"I'd never known him to be, but if what you told me was true, then –"

"_If,_ Jace? If! I don't know why I would lie about this!"

"Then yes, Sebastian is one of those types. There are two people close to you, in fact, who believe the same as Sebastian, in fact."

"Dare I ask whom?"

"Jonathon and Valentine Morgenstern, that's how I know them. I've met them at the New York Institute a while back, before I became who I am now."

"Institute?"

"It's not worth the time explaining. Do you mind if I make a phone call?"

"Go ahead. I'm going to borrow your shower anyway."

Jace seemed to regain some of his usual self, smirking as he said, "Think of me" with a wink.

I smiled back at him, "I will."

Just as I was closing the door, I heard him say, "Hi Sebastian."

**JxC**

I took my time in the shower, scrubbing through my hair with the shampoo I'd left here last time, and soaping all over with my soap as well. I loved the feeling of Jace's shower, the way it truly felt like rain, but was warm and – well, ever since that shower we'd shared . . . – almost erotic in the way that it pounded against my skin, making my all senses tingle.

And what else would make all of my senses tingle? I pondered.

If Jace were in here with me, I had no doubt he'd have me pushed up against the tiles, the hard line of his body pressed against my softer one. He'd kiss me hard, his mouth then moving to my neck and collarbones, his hands massaging the flesh of my breasts. His hand would dip lower, and lower until –

There was a knock on the door, "Clary? Are you done in there? You've been in the shower an awfully long time?"

I flicked the shower off, feeling extremely unsatisfied. "Sorry," I called back.

I jumped out and quickly dried off with one of Jace's red towels, wrapping it around my body. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Jace was sitting at his desk.

I put on my undies back on and pulled Jace's shirt on – though it was getting to be more mine, I was pretty sure that I wore it more than he did.

I walked over to his desk, wrapping my arms around his shoulders from behind. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just worried," he spun his chair and I let go of him. "About you, mostly."

"Aww, I feel special. What time is it, by the way?"

"Almost six fifteen."

"Magnus said that he didn't want to be annoyed for at least an hour. And a half."

Jace smirked. "I'm sure that we can find something to do for that long."

And we did.

But it wasn't quite what you think. I found a Monopoly board underneath Jace's bed – don't ask why I was on the floor in the first place – and so we played Monopoly.

We were playing time-limited game, and whoever had the least money and properties at the end of the first half hour had to lose their shirt, whoever was losing at the end of the second half hour had to lose their shirt – or if the same person lost both times, they had the lose their shirt and their bottoms.

Which could be rather dangerous, and it turned out to be, when I lost the first half hour, and had to take my – Jace's – shirt off. However, I used that to my advantage, occasionally pointedly showing off my goods (or lack thereof, not that Jace seemed to care about my size). And occasionally, he made some crazy mistakes because of my exposed body.

Which benefited me. Slightly.

But when the next half hour passed, and I was still losing, I was suddenly not so keen on this whole plan.

Jace's iPhone beeped, telling us that our time was up. "Shall we check who is losing?" he asked. "Though I'm fairly sure it's pretty obvious."

I had one hotel and a few houses, but Jace had three hotels, more houses and more money. "Did you cheat?" I asked, since he'd been the banker – though I'd watched him carefully.

"Why would I ever cheat? I'm just good at Monopoly. Honestly, you probably never had a chance."

I folded my arms across my chest. "I believe that is very much cheating."

"What happens to cheaters?" Jace asked.

"Cheaters have to give up winning rights for the second round," I improvised.

"Does that mean I lose my pants or my shirt?"

I swallowed hard. "Let's just go with the shirt."

He pulled his button down shirt up over his head, throwing it on the floor.

"What now?" I asked quietly.

Jace swept the board off of his bed, apparently uncaring if he lost any pieces.

He patted the centre of the bed, and I moved there, sitting cross-legged, feeling a lot less exposed that I probably should have. "No, silly," he murmured, kneeling in front of me, "relax and lay down."

I laid down, as he'd asked. He was still wearing his dress pants, I realised belatedly. I kind of wanted them off, not that I would tell him that, not yet.

He worshipped my upper-body and mouth for – I didn't even know how long.

Eventually, he decided that we should eat something and we ventured out into his living space – after I'd put his shirt back on, of course. Alec and Magnus had seen me in Jace's shirt and my undies before, though I wasn't prepared to walk out there topless. I was more modest than that.

**JxC**

_Tuesday 18__th__ January_

Tuesday at the office was work as usual, despite the fact that the air outside was unseasonably cold – mostly caused by wind blowing off the water and tunnelling through the streets of New York (or so the weather reporters said). I had lunch in the staff cafeteria, buying a boxed sandwich, I sat with a man I'd never met before, his name was Will, and he worked in the economics section of the building – the same floor as Sebastian, I supposed. In passing, he mentioned this girl that he liked, Tessa, but it was only one sentence. He seemed pretty nice, really, but when the clock ticked over to one thirty, we both decided we should probably get back to our respective desks.

I picked up Jace's dry-cleaning and a couple of packages that he'd ordered from the post office.

Checking my email, I found out that Sebastian had yet again contacted me.

_Jace will join us, Clarissa. Unless you want to get hurt, you shouldn't get involved with him. –SV & JM._

_ JM,_ I thought, _Jonathon Morgenstern_?

"How'd you get yourself messed up in all of this?" I muttered to myself.

My phone rang and I picked it up.

"Hello, Mr. Wayland's office, how may I help you?"

"Hi, Clarissa. It's me, Caitlin. I was wondering if you could put me through to Jace. Stupid idiot still refuses to give me his private office number."

I laughed. "That sounds like a very Jace thing to do. I'll put you through."

"Thanks, Clarissa."

I pushed the call through to Jace's office, hearing the click as he picked it up.

Since I'd gotten Jace involved in this whole Sebastian business, I figured that it might be best to show him the email I'd gotten; I transferred it to my iPad and took it into his office, tucked under my arm.

I closed the door behind me, locking it.

"Hey Clary," Jace said, not looking up from his computer screen.

"What did Caitlin want?"

"Oh, she just wanted me to confirm for the _Bones_ thing." He met my eyes. "I'm going to be playing this character who is utterly handsome, and Bones has sex with him a couple of times in the episode, and then it turns out that he's actually the bad guy. Sounds pretty cool, huh?"

"God, spoilers much?" I said, smiling. "It does sound good, though."

He pushed his chair back and patted his lap. Today I was wearing dress pants instead of my usual skirt, so I took a seat on his lap, one leg on either side of his. "Here, have a look at this." I passed him my iPad, lighting up the screen so that he could read the email.

"SV is obviously Seb. But JM?"

"I was thinking it might be Jonathon, since you mentioned him yesterday . . ."

"That's true," he said, putting the iPad on his desk. "I did hear you lock the door before, didn't I?"

I gave him my best sultry smile, "Of course, Mr. Wayland."

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **_**TMI**_** or any of its characters; they're Cassie Clare's only.**

_Milo: as far as I know, you don't have it in the States. However, I'm pretty sure they have it in Canada (or so Wikipedia told me – and we all know how trustworthy Wikipedia is ;)). Milo is a drink mix type thing. Like Nesquik – do you have that?_

Special thanks to _CLACE rox_ and _Adie_ for pointing out a mistake that I made last chapter :).

_Reviews are appreciated!_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Maisy :) x_


	16. Chapter FIFTEEN

_**Previously in At Your Assistance**_

"I was thinking it might be Jonathon, since you mentioned him yesterday . . ."

"That's true," he said, putting the iPad on his desk. "I did hear you lock the door before, didn't I?"

I gave him my best sultry smile, "Of course, Mr. Wayland."

**JxC**

**Chapter FIFTEEN**

_Wednesday 19__th__ January_

When I woke at six thirty a.m., I stretched my limbs, remembering sorely that my bed was empty except for me. Sometimes I wondered why I didn't just ask Clary to come and live with me, but considering I'd never quite had a proper girlfriend before I wasn't sure if it was right. Especially since Clary considered our relationship rather short, at the moment, despite the fact that we were fast approaching the one-month mark (it was on Saturday, in fact, not that I'd been counting or anything . . .).

Once I'd finally dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, I found myself thinking about those emails that Sebastian had been sending to Clary. Though I knew that Clary wouldn't lie to me – why go to all the effort to fabricate those emails? Especially when she barely knew Seb in the first place – I was finding it hard believe that Sebastian would send those anyway.

Being in the shower also tended to remind me of my shower with Clary . . .

I shuddered at the thought, pushing it away. As much as I adored fantasising about Clary, just before breakfast wasn't a good time to be doing that.

Out of the shower, I dried off and walked into my bedroom stark naked. I put on boxers and my work pants. I settled the white towel around my shoulders to soak up the water that was sure to drip off my hair as I walked out of my bedroom and into the living space.

"Hey boys, what's up?"

Alec, who was watching the early morning news, glanced at me for a moment before rolling his eyes. Magnus just grinned at me, "Lookin' good, Jace. _But_ I still ain't gonna tap that ass."

"Oh dear," I remarked, joining Mag in the kitchen. "I so look forward to the day when you decide you do want to tap my ass."

I grabbed my cereal from the cupboard and poured myself a generous bowl, covering it with milk, shoving a spoonful into my mouth as Magnus said: "More like you look forward to the day when Clary decides that your ass is worth tapping."

"Excuse me?" I choked out, almost spluttering the contents of my mouth onto the counter. _That was _so_ not me_, I thought, coughing purposefully. "Who says she hasn't already tapped this?"

"Oh, Jace. Do you still not know me? I'd just _know_," he tapped his nose. "I have my ways. Then there's the fact that most of your women tend to be anything but quiet."

I rolled my eyes. "Clary's different."

"Quiet, you mean? You still haven't tapped that, though."

"My advice," Alec called from the couch, "is to wait for her. Don't push it."

"His first words all morning," Mag mumbled, as his toast popped up from the toaster. I got stuck into my cereal as Magnus spread margarine and Vegemite on the four slices of toast.

The only noise that came from the room was Magnus crunching on his near-burnt toast, me sucking down my cereal and _Sunrise_ on the telly.

After finishing my cereal, I went and put on my white shirt, green silk tie and suit jacket. My phone vibrated with an incoming message.

_Hi Jace. I'm getting a lift into work with Isabelle. See you there?_

I called Clary back and she picked up straight away, sounding flustered as she said, "Hello my not so Secret Admirer."

"Hey Fairchild," I replied, unable to keep the smirk off my face. "What's all this about getting a lift into work with Isabelle?"

"Ah, um, she wanted the time to talk to me about something – man troubles and the like."

"You don't sound awfully sure, you know," I told her as I began opening the blinds in my bedroom.

Her voice was firm as she said "I'll see you at work, Wayland" before hanging up. I took a deep breath. _That's right, Wayland. Calm down._

"Mag," I said as I stuffed my wallet and phone into my trouser pockets. "Do you need a lift into work this morning?"

"Nah. I'll be coming in later this morning – in fact, I'm just texting Maximilian."

I felt my heart crumple at that thought, knowing that Alec would be feeling exactly the same.

_Max._

**JxC**

It had been a while since I'd arrived at work alone – without my PA, my Clary, close to my side – and I received more than a few odd looks, but I smiled at all of my employees as I walked in from the office car park, even saying a few 'good mornings'. Despite the fact that the elevator was packed with workers struggling to get in on time, I felt so alone. But when the doors opened at the thirty-ninth floor, I was greeted by a smiling, "Good morning, Mr. Wayland."

"Good morning, Miss Fairchild," I replied, joining in on her game. "Why so formal?"

"I'm in a good mood," she told me. "I slept really well last night."

"Oh, you managed to sleep without me cuddling you for once? I'm glad."

Her brow furrowed. "Don't be a tool, Jace. I'll be back in a few, all right?"

I nodded, heading into my office, watching as she disappeared to the female loos on this floor. I sat in my desk chair, relishing in its comfort for a minute before checking my emails and my phone messages.

None of my emails were overly urgent, just business stuff, one from Caitlin and a couple from Harriet, the woman who was heading up our next campaign – the campaign that would star our very own gorgeous, but completely accessible Clarissa Fairchild.

My one phone message was a little more worrying, though.

"Hi Jace. It's me, Seb. Do you remember how I was telling you about how we need to rid the world of downworlders and demons? Well I was hoping that you would join ranks with Jonathon, Valentine and I. You'd be a great addition to our little team. Talk to you on Thursday. Bye."

I was so absorbed in listening to the message and how it connected to the email he'd sent to Clary that I hadn't noticed her walk in. The same Clary who was now sitting in one of the chairs in front of my desk, her mouth forming a cute little 'o' shape.

"Clary," I said calmly as I could, "pick your jaw up off the floor."

Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at me, her face giving away nothing – for _once_ in her life. Of course, she managed to compose herself when I most desperately wanted to be able to read her face.

"How much did you hear?"

"Everything from ridding the world of demons and downworlders," she told me. "Is he crazy? Sebastian, I mean."

"If Sebastian is crazy," I countered, feeling defensive, "then so are your brother and father."

Clary just raised her eyebrows, "They've been crazy their whole lives; it's no news flash. I just thought that – I mean, Sebastian had seemed so normal when I'd first met him, nice even."

"He is; he just fell on the wrong side of Nephilim, that's all. I don't think he's crazy, but demons and downworlders . . . they don't exist, Clary."

"Do angels exist?" she asked me.

"The other Nephilim, they consider themselves to be descendants of angels, direct from the Angel Raziel."

"Crazy," she murmured.

"You're, what, Christian? Atheist?"

"I prefer to think of myself as Agnostic, actually."

"Ah," I murmured.

"Simon's Jewish, though. I used to go to the synagogue with him sometimes."

_Simon_ _was lucky to be a permanent staff member now._ _I'd never liked him overly._ "Do you want to go on a date?" I asked, surprising myself.

"A date, huh . . ." she said, pretending to consider.

"Come here," I said, and she got up and moved around the desk.

I stood, stepping forward so that our bodies were touching from our toes to our foreheads. "Yes?" she whispered.

I kissed her then, my arms sliding easily, comfortably around her waist, holding her against me. "How about now?" I asked when I broke our mouth-to-mouth contact.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you want to go on a date?"

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. "Yes, of course I do," she announced finally. "However, I have some work to do. Got to get those pieces of paper to the heads of each department, like you said."

I groaned. "Can't you just email them out?"

"Ah, no." She was still in my arms, her breasts pressed firmly against my chest I noticed with pleasure. "I can't. You told me it would be best if I handed them out personally."

"Fuck me," I muttered.

She smirked, just like I did. "Ah, honey. In some ways, I'd love to, but you know I prefer making love." She pulled herself out of my arms, strutting out of my office in _flats_ – obviously a lot more her thing than heels – wiggling her cute little bum, she turned around just as she walked out of the office door, throwing me a wink before closing them behind her.

_By the Angel,_ I thought,_ I've turned this woman into the devil._

**JxC**

_Friday 21__st__ January_

When I met Clary at her apartment, she was wearing a black mid-thigh length dress – of course she was wearing a _dress_! – and flats. "How's it cookin', good-lookin'?" I said, smirking as I stepped into her apartment, pulling her into my arms. "Should I be lending you my jacket?" I asked, because she was only wearing a dress, no overcoat or something covering her shoulders or anything.

"No, Izzy's getting me a coat as we speak."

"We could be kissing instead of speaking," I murmured, my lips brushing the skin just below her ear. She shivered and I grinned. "Hi Isabelle," I said over Clary's shoulder.

"I've got your coat, Clary," she said, shooting me a glare.

Clary removed herself from my arms. "Thanks, Izzy." She hugged her roommate and walked back over to me.

"You're going to regret not wearing heels," Isabelle said as I closed the door in her face.

Clary shot me a look, "That was rude, Jace."

"Isabelle was getting on my nerves. I just want to get our date started already."

As we walked to the elevators, Clary said, "You've never been on a proper date before, have you?"

"Huh, maybe once. When I was in high school."

"That was a long time ago," she allowed. "You're – what? – twenty-five now, right? And high school, so you must've been sixteen."

"Yeah, I guess so."

It took us awhile to arrive at the Clockwork Prince restaurant.

The first thing Clary said when we arrived was the name of the restaurant, in the form of a question, a shocked question, "The _Clockwork Prince_?"

I nodded. "Where else?"

"Two points," she said as I got a valet to take my car. "One – is this related to the Clockwork Angel? Two – how on _Earth_ did you manage to get a reservation _here_?"

"One – yes. Two – I'm awesome and well loved around New York."

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek, then running her fingertips over my skin. "I love your stubble," she smiled, "it's very manly."

I spotted a guy looking at Clary and glared at him for a second before turning my attention back to Clary, who had followed my eyes.

"Was he doing something wrong?" she asked, as we finally took our seats.

"He," I said, "was looking at you like you didn't have some serious eye candy attached to your arm."

"You mean _you_?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. Of course me."

"Excuse me," a girl of maybe twenty said, "I'm Tessa, and I'll be your waitress tonight. Would you like to order drinks now?"

I looked at Clary, who shrugged, and glanced down the menu. "We'll have a bottle of Bubbleduck, thank you."

Clary looked at the girl, Tessa, funnily, as if she recognised her, but she wasn't sure where from.

"So do you do this often?" I asked once Tessa had gone.

"Go on dates?" I nodded. "I haven't been on a date in ages. But I used to, back in the day."

"Back in the day?"

"Oh, you know, in the last couple of years. My father was always setting me up with prospective husbands, few of whom ever went anywhere. In fact, I'm pretty sure not one of those dates ever lasted more than that."

"Oh yeah? Anyone interesting?"

"I went on a date with that Italian real estate tycoon guy, he's on the telly a lot. What was his name again? I've forgotten, but he was . . . quite good-looking."

"Vittorio Lombardi? Really?"

"Yeah, that one. Honestly," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper in the crowded room, "he wasn't all that great; he was too up himself . . . even more than you are."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not up myself."

"No? Obviously you just appreciate how good-looking you are, then."

"Of course. I also appreciate _you_," I told her, putting my hand on her knee, rubbing it.

Tessa returned with our bottle of Bubbleduck, pouring a sip into our glasses to taste before filling them and then leaving the bottle in a cooler on the table. "Thanks," Clary and I both said at the same time, which made her smile.

**JxC**

"That Tessa . . ." Clary began as we got back into my car.

"What about her?" I asked finally. "Did you recognise her?"

"No, not really. It's just that I was talking to this guy," I felt my eyes narrow at this – Clary should be spending time with me, not other men. "I met him in the staff cafeteria at the office, Will somebody-or-other, and he mentioned this girl, Tessa. And I just have this feeling, that she's his Tessa."

"I'm sure there are hundreds of Tessas in New York, Clary." I said, looking at her as we pulled out onto the street.

"Do you have to be such a downer?"

"Sorry," I digressed. "It might be her, yeah."

"So, this Will. Which section of the company does he work in?"

"Um. The same as Sebastian, I think. He's in the money side of things. Do you know him?"

"I might do."

"He's got black hair, blue eyes, yes?"

I pulled the car to a stop at a red traffic light, "Yeah, I think so. I don't know anything about this Tessa girl, though. His last name is Herondale, by the way."

"Herondale," she repeated. "Sounds kind of familiar."

"Well, your father probably knew a few Herondales." I pushed down on the accelerator and the car jerked forward. "There's a fair few Herondales who are Nephilim. It's a Nephilim name, like mine. Wayland, Verlac, Herondale, Lightwood, _Morgenstern._ Even Fairchild."

"_Fairchild_? So I'm the same as you?" she asked, a certain amount of conviction in her voice.

"I'm just guessing here, but I'd say that your mother was born a Nephilim, married Valentine, then, well, somehow you were, I don't know, shielded from our life."

"I think I'm going to have to call Jocelyn when we get back."

"Are you staying at mine?"

Clary sent a smile, so sultry I felt it in my groin, in my direction and said, "Stupid question, Wayland."

**JxC**

We were greeted at the front door of my home by a grinning Magnus. "Hey kids, how was your date?" he asked.

"Quite good," Clary said, stepping past him.

"Only quite good?" Magnus whispered to me as I closed the door.

"Best date in my life," I said, smirking.

"The first date in your life," Clary retorted. "But it was certainly the best date of my life. Probably the first date I've been on with a guy that I –" she broke off, apparently very interested in a painting on the wall. She took a deep breath. "The first time I've been out on a date with a man that I wasn't forced to be with," she turned to us and smiled a little too sweetly.

_What had she been about to say? I didn't want her to say the four-lettered L-word. I wasn't ready for that, not at all._

"I'll just go and, ah, call my mum. Okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "Go right ahead. I'm going to grab a beer."

She disappeared into my room and Magnus rubbed my back. "Awkward for you," he said. "Now, where's my Alec?" Alec appeared out of the main bathroom, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Magnus groaned. I, being the most manly of us men, grabbed a beer out of the fridge and popped the top. "You're wearing pyjama pants, you idiot. What did I say about nudity?"

Alec looked at me, smiling a little as I gulped down my beer. "That I should be naked more often, however, I doubt that's something Jace would appreciate."

"In normal circumstances," I began, "I would not care. But honestly, I don't want to see you two going at."

"_Fine,_" Magnus whined. "We'll take this to the bedroom."

I rolled my eyes, but watched them disappear into the second bedroom – their bedroom. I took a few minutes to finish off the rest of my beer before dropping the bottle in our recycling bin and going to my bedroom.

I knocked carefully before entering. "Clary?" I said, not seeing her in my room at all. "Are you in the bathroom?"

"Jace," she whispered, her arms suddenly around my waist, her face pressed against my chest.

"Hey, where'd you come from?"

"I was in your wardrobe. Can we just go to sleep?" she asked, looking up at me, worrying her lip.

"Yeah," I replied. _Do you want to talk about it?_ were the words that I didn't say, not even as we climbed into bed and tucked ourselves in. I wrapped my body around hers, her back against my chest and eventually, I fell asleep.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI.**_** (Nor do I own, **_**ID**_** – Tessa or Will.) I hope that doesn't surprise you too much.**

_This is gonna be a long A/N, you guys. I apologise in advance._

_Okay, so where I'm headed with this story . . ._

_I've decided (just today, actually – 06/01/2011 I don't really plan ahead . . .) that this story will be twenty-five chapters long, no more no less. Plus an epilogue. I have a vague idea of what will be in the epi (obviously it's going to be a complete mass of fluff), but I was wondering if you guys think that Clary and Jace (since it will be a happy ending, of course) should get married and/or/not have kids. Yes, no? Say so in your review or just PM me. It would be a great ending, but I was thinking that I can't really see (the proper, in book) Jace getting married to anyone – not even Clary. But maybe my Jace is different? I want to know what you think!_

Vegemite:_ (just a reminder) only in Australia, would we consider cooked-down axel grease to be a good breakfast spread ;). (It's good, by the way. Go out and buy some!)_

Telly:_ short for television (TV). (And _Sunrise_ is an Australian breakfast program that I don't watch.)_

Loo:_ toilet, lavatory, bathroom, restroom, powder room, ladies', WC… you get the idea?_

Bubbleduck:_ a bubbly type of wine made in the state of Australia in which I reside. I don't think it can be legally called champagne, however._

**_Eep! I forgot to mention! There's a link to Clary's outfit for their date night, if you want to look at it, on my Profile!_**

_Reviews are appreciated!_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Maisy :) x_


	17. Chapter SIXTEEN

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

"Jace," she whispered, her arms suddenly around my waist, her face pressed against my chest.

"Hey, where'd you come from?"

"I was in your wardrobe. Can we just go to sleep?" she asked, looking up at me, worrying her lip.

"Yeah," I replied. _Do you want to talk about it?_ were the words that I didn't say, not even as we climbed into bed and tucked ourselves in. I wrapped my body around hers, her back against my chest and eventually, I fell asleep.

**JxC**

**Chapter SIXTEEN**

_Friday 21__st__ January_

Even with Jace's hips pressing into my bum, his arms around me, I couldn't find sleep. The comfort that he usually brought me was hard to find tonight. I'd called my mother three times and she hadn't picked up, so I'd left her a message, asking if we could meet for coffee, that we needed to talk. I _had_ to ask her about this stupid Nephilim stuff. And then, there was the word that had almost slipped out of my mouth just before.

I'd been walking into Jace's penthouse, not looking at either Jace or Magnus. And after my retort at Jace's comment, it was all downhill. "But it was certainly the best date of my life," I'd said to them both. "Probably the first date I've been on with a guy that I –" _loved._ Of course, I'd taken a steadying breath, corrected my horrid mistake, hoping that they hadn't realised what I'd been about to say and smiled sweetly. I excused myself and disappeared into Jace's bedroom, wondering how I could be so . . . so stupid, so ignorant.

How long had we been going out? Four weeks tomorrow, according to Jace. And I was already about to say that I loved him. _Dammit!_

_It's all right,_ my brain reasoned, _there's a big difference between loving someone and being _in love_ with someone. For instance, you love Simon and you love Isabelle, but you're not _in love_ with them._

_So . . . does that mean I'm not in love with Jace?_

_ Are you ready to risk your heart?_ my brain reasoned.

_No._

_ Then you're not in love with him._

_ Should I wait until we're in love properly to make love with him?_ I asked my brain.

This time, my brain was all out of ideas.

And then I realised that I had probably gone insane. I just had an entire conversation in my _head_.

_Definitely insane._

_ Shut up,_ I told my brain. _And go to sleep._

I trained my focus on the rise and fall of Jace's chest, the sound of his breath, and eventually sleep found me.

**JxC**

_Saturday 22__nd__ January_

When I woke, Jace's right hand was skimming up and down my length, beginning at my knee and working up my thigh, lingering on my hip, slithering over my waist and ribs before brushing his fingertips over my breasts through his dark blue shirt. After a minute or two of enjoying the sensations his fingers brought me, I rolled to face him.

"Oh, hello. I didn't see you there."

"Really?" I asked with a smile, pecking his lips. "Good morning."

His hand rested on my hip now, pulling me closer against him. "Good morning to you too."

I smiled, feeling something tugging at my conscious. He kissed me properly then, holding that thought at bay.

He broke the kiss, looking at me hard, really staring into my eyes. "Do you, uh, want to talk?"

_Love. Shit._ "Ah, about?" I hedged.

"Last night. What did your mother say?"

_Oh, thank the Lord!_ "I couldn't get through to her. She didn't pick up, must've been out or something."

"Did you try her mobile?"

"Yeah, that's what I was trying."

"Oh."

_Well, this is awkward._

Jace got up and out of bed. "I think I might have a shower. Do you want to join me?"

I tried to replicate his smirk – and probably failed. "As much as I'd love to relive our last shower, I'm going to pass today."

"Okay," he said, shrugging. I watched him walk around the bed and into his en suite, closing the door behind him but, as usual, not locking it.

I threw my arm across my eyes.

"God, I'm such an _idiot,_" I muttered to myself. "Why don't relationships ever go right for me?"

I listened to the shower hitting the tiles, and then when the noise softened, Jace's toned, tanned body. The visual I had in my mind was way too realistic for what I wanted.

I pulled my hair back, going to tie it up before I realised that I didn't have any hairbands.

_You might've left one in Jace's bathroom,_ my brain told me.

_I really need to stop talking to myself._

_ Yeah, you –_ I'm just going to stop right there. I was going crazy.

I got out of bed, changing into one of Jace's white button-downs and a pair of track pants that were a million miles too long. When I walked out into the living room, I immediately spotted Magnus.

"God," he murmured. "Did you get run over by a train?"

"I, ah –"

"I mean, look at what you're wearing! Track pants and a button-down shirt! Even Jace knows not to wear that." Magnus walked over to me, pulling me back into Jace's room and wardrobe. "How long do we have?" he asked, apparently getting into his ex-fashion designer, _Elijah Fox,_ groove.

"Not very long," I told him.

Magnus began tearing through Jace's draws, he pulled out a pair of Jace's jeans and handed them to me. "You can wear _those_ with the top."

"These are so not going to fit me," I protested. "They'll fall down every time I take a step."

Magnus patted my shoulder, "Improvise, honey. And make it look sexy, for me, if not Jace or yourself." And with that said, he walked back to where he'd been, leaving me in Jace's wardrobe alone.

I did what Magnus suggested, dropping the track pants and pulling the jeans on. I was just looking for a belt to wear when Jace got out of his shower.

"Hi, what are you –"

He flicked the wardrobe light on, bathing us both in its yellowish glow.

He sucked in a breath and I wondered if I was wearing his favourite jeans or something. "Clary . . ." he said slowly. "I think that is – you are – probably one of the sexiest things I've ever had the pleasure of seeing."

_Oh. Wow._

"And I think that sex would benefit us both right now."

I glanced pointedly at the towel he had around his hips, and how it was tented. "I think it would benefit you more than me. I'm hungry."

"Hungry for me?" Then when I shook my head – which was a total lie, because I always wanted Jace – he said, "C'mon, Clary, _please_."

"Begging?" I said, incredulous, feeling mean. "Really? I didn't think you'd ever stoop to that level."

He just stared at me.

I felt weak. I walked over to him, standing on by his side – since standing close to his front would be impossible right about now – and wrapping my arms around his waist. I swallowed. I hated apologising sometimes. "Jace, I – I don't mean to be so grumpy, but . . . this thing with my mum and it's just so crazy. And I – I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"You know that I'm going to need another shower now, right?"

I smiled meekly up at him. "Yeah. I'll make breakfast. Pikelets?"

"Sounds good," he replied, kissing my lips quickly before darting back into the en suite.

**JxC**

Pikelets are easy; I'd had them mastered since I was ten. That, of course, does not explain why I was letting half of them burn. I was distracted, by that L-word and my mother and her possible secrets. _Fairchild, _I thought, _I'm a Fairchild. A Morgenstern too. Which means my ancestors were probably Nephilim. Or something._

A pair of arms snaked around my waist then, and I turned my head, landing a kiss on – on _Magnus'_ cheek! _"Ahh!" _I squealed.

Magnus released me and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "What the hell, Clary? I have a boyfriend, you know."

"I, ah, um, thought you were, yeah, Jace."

_Way to go with sentence structure, Clary._

"Uh-huh, honey. Can I have some of those pancakes? The not burnt ones, preferably," Mag said, leaning against the counter.

"Sure," I told him, flipping a couple and waiting for them to cook.

"So, what's up?"

"Ah, not much?"

"Clare-bear, I meant you and Jace. What with last night . . ."

I narrowed my eyes at him as I put a couple of pikelets on a plate. "What do you mean, Magnus?"

"Well, for starters you weren't quite _you_ when you walked in, and then there was when you almost said that you lo—"

"We're not going there, all right? Here's your pikelets." I pushed the plate into his hands. "Share them with Alec."

"Will do, Ma'am."

I rolled my eyes, feeling both relieved and guilty as he walked away.

"Hey, Clary?" Jace called – from his bedroom? "Your phone's ringing. Do you want me to pick it up?"

"Can't you bring it here?" I asked.

"No. Oh, hi. This is Clarissa Fairchild's phone. . . Who's speaking? Jace Wayland, of course." He walked out into the kitchen, finally. "Clary, it's your mum," he told me. "Yes, right. Here she is." He swapped my phone for the spatula and I held my iPhone to my ear.

"Hi Mum."

"Hi Clary, was something wrong? You left three messages last night. I was out on a date with Luke." _Just like I was on a date with Jace._

"Can we meet for coffee? I want to talk to you, in person, Mum."

"Of course, but I'm not really very close to where you are, honey."

"I'll come up. I haven't seen you since New Years' anyway."

"Are you going to bring your boyfriend?"

"_Boyfriend_?" I said, incredulous. I wasn't even sure I'd told Jocelyn that I was having it off with the boss. Then again, maybe I had.

"Yes, that Wayland boy?"

"Man," I corrected. "Wayland _man_."

Jace put an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side with a smirk.

"I'll take that as a yes. Are you bringing him?" I heard Luke's voice at the other end of the line but couldn't make out what he was saying. "Luke wants to meet the Wayland man too." I felt blush colour my cheeks at my mother's teasing. Jace kissed my cheek, smiling widely. "He wants to make sure that he's good for you."

"I'll ask him, all right? And text you."

"Okay, honey. Are you coming up today?"

"Yeah, today. I love you, Mum."

"Love you too, Clary."

We hung up and I looked at Jace. "Do you want to meet my parents?"

**JxC**

And that was how I ended up sitting in my mother's kitchen, a cup of coffee in my hands. Jace had been ushered out to the living room to have a nice little chat with Luke. I hoped he'd be all right.

_Don't be silly. Jace can handle himself,_ my brain reasoned.

"Mum?"

"Yeah, Clary?"

"You know how I wanted to talk to you . . . well, I wanted to talk to you about, um, Nephilim."

"Nephilim?" she asked, as if she didn't know what they were.

"Mum, don't muck around with me. You, Dad, Jonathon . . . you were Nephilim, weren't you? All of you. Why aren't I? Why hadn't I even heard of Nephilim until just the other day?"

"So many questions, Clary," she murmured, not denying anything. She took a deep breath and looked out the window. "Yes, I was Nephilim once, Clary. I'm not anymore, not since your father began the Uprising. I hadn't realised how serious he was about demons and downworlders until then – you know what I'm talking about?"

"Sort of," I replied.

"When I married your father, we were both Nephilim, and the Morgensterns were a particularly respected family. I was so lucky so be marrying into their family, everyone said. So lucky. But no one knew until your grandparents died that Valentine was so serious about everything. Even I, his wife, had never suspected anything. I should have, of course."

"You didn't answer my other question. Why don't I know about this?"

"Valentine – _we_ decided that it would be best for you not to know about this world, because, well, your father said that this was not a world for girls to be living in. He didn't want you to get hurt, Clary."

"And you condoned this?" I snapped.

"I didn't want you hurt either. Hiding you from the Nephilim world was never easy. Don't you remember never being allowed into Valentine's study? That was because we kept everything in there. To anyone else, to you, we'd be a normal family. And then on those days when Jonathon, Valentine and I went out and left you behind with a sitter? We were visiting the New York Institute – do you know what that is?" I nodded. "We were required by the Clave – that's the centre of the Nephilim – to check in at least once a month, preferably more often."

"Jace is – Nephilim. Surely you must've known before I handed my resumé in. And you still didn't think to tell me?"

"Wayland is a Nephilim name. Nephilim stick together, I knew there would be many in that office."

"What about Luke?"

"He used to be a member of Valentine's Circle – as I was – but he quit, and let go of his Nephilim name. He was born Lucian Graymark, but now, as you know, he's just Luke Garroway."

"So I was hidden from this because?"

"Because Valentine truly believes that demons and downworlders exist. He wanted to protect you from them, of course."

"Hey Clary, can you come here a moment?" Luke said from the other room.

_This was insane. Had my whole life been a lie?_

"Coming!" I called back, heading into the living room. I forced a smile onto my face. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, everything's great. Just wanted a hug is all."

"Okay . . ." I murmured, unsure, but stepped into his arms anyway. He squeezed me so hard that I felt my life slipping away as I choked for air. Finally he let me go and I drew in the deepest breath that I ever had. "What's up with the squeezing?"

"I've always squeezed you," he retorted.

"Maybe. But not that hard."

"Anyway, I'm going to go and talk to Jocelyn for a minute. You'll be all right?"

"Yes, _Mum._" I rolled my eyes.

Luke grinned and went into the kitchen.

"What was all that about?" Jace asked as I sat on the couch beside him.

"The talking to my mother part or the Luke part?"

"Both?"

"I was talking to Jocelyn about, um, what you are. And Luke, I don't know really." He took a sip of his beer, and I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. I leaned into his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around me. "Can I have some?" I asked him.

"Of me? Always."

I raised an eyebrow. "I meant your beer."

"Only men are supposed to drink brown liquid," he said in a joking tone.

"Jace, come on."

He passed me his beer and I downed a gulp. Or two. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, Jace," I snapped, regretting it immediately. "Nothing's wrong. You know, my mother just confirmed that she'd been hiding something from me for my whole life. And I have to worry about Sebastian and whatever he's doing. And then there's Simon, who is currently dating two women at once. _And_ then there's the fact that I almost said that I –" I broke off, _just might love you._

"That you what?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"What did Jocelyn tell you?"

"That I never knew about you, you _Nephilim_, because Father wanted to _protect_ me."

Jace thought about that for a moment. "Well, if he truly believes that downworlders and demons exist, that only makes sense."

"But they don't exist!" I protested.

"Yes, well. Valentine Morgenstern never did strike me as completely sane. No offense."

"None taken," I stated. "Luke is more my father than Valentine now. But if Luke was keeping something from me too . . ."

"I got the feeling," Jace murmured, "that Luke was only going along with it because it was what your mother wanted."

"Why does everyone lie to me?"

"I don't lie to you," he told me.

"No, I know. Isabelle told me that you didn't lie."

"It's true," he said. "You can try me."

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, feeling too vulnerable. "I don't need to. I trust you." _I trust him,_ I thought. _I trust Jace. With everything._

_ Except your heart, _said my mind.

_ Yeah, except for my heart._

"I'm glad," he said, putting his mouth on mine in a sweet kiss.

"Aww," I heard my mother say. I broke away from Jace, looking at her. "My little girl's all grown up."

"I _have_ kissed boys before Jace, Mum."

She nodded then and when I was hugging her goodbye she whispered to me, "You may have kissed boys before, but I'm not sure about men."

I didn't say anything in response but, "I'll see you later, Mum."

"Call me when you get home," she said as I walked down the path from her house to the street.

"Will do."

Once in the car, Jace said to me, "Do you want to go to South Beach?"

"On Staten Island?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI.**_** Go figure, right? (I'd call you guys 'Assistants' but that sounds kinda rude somehow.)**

_I'm going to call out a special thanks to a girl (I'm assuming, here) who reviewed on Chapter FIFTEEN and said all of these awesome things. I'm not sure what your name is (because you didn't give me one) but I'm really glad that you're enjoying my story. And my Australian use of words :D. (Check out my Fictionpress too? ;)) You've pretty much made my day, woman. So thanks a heap!_

Brittanica_ – Thanks for your opinion! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. And . . . hell yes for Vegemite and Milo! :D (I crave them now.)_

Bexxy_ – In Chapter TWELVE, Simon called Clary 'Clarissa Morgenstern' because that was her birth name. Then when her parents divorced, she took her mother's maiden name instead of keeping her father's name – therefore, Simon knew her as Clary Morgenstern (because her parents divorced after her and Simon were separated). And I'm pretty sure Clary didn't not recognise the name, but instead rejected it – or at least, that's how I wrote it. I hope that explains things for you._

Tasha_ – Thanks for the review!_

Elena _– Get an account, woman! I wanted to reply to your review, but as I cannot . . . thank you so much! I haven't had the best of days, but your review cheered me up considerably :)._

amylangue – _Thank you for the inspiration! It will be used in a later chapter, I assure you :)._

**Happy belated Australia Day, kiddles!**

_Reviews are appreciated (and _always _replied to-well, unless you're anon, but I try!)!_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Maisy :) x_

_P.S. See that button, just down there. Seeing it? Click it. Go on, I _dare_ you. And maybe try saying something more than 'I loved this chapter! Update soon!'. _


	18. Chapter SEVENTEEN

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

Once in the car, Jace said to me, "Do you want to go to South Beach?"

"On Staten Island?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

**JxC**

**Chapter SEVENTEEN**

_Saturday 22__nd__ January_

When we arrived at South Beach, we both got out of the car, not speaking, as if we'd made some kind of silent agreement on our quiet car trip to the beach. I hadn't been to the beach in a long time, and I was itching to feel the sand between my toes – though I always complained about it later. Every time. But I didn't run straight to the sand, instead finding myself sitting on one of the benches that lined the length of the beach. Jace sat down close beside me and I just stared out at the water for an innumerable amount of time, thinking about everything from Simon to Jocelyn to Valentine to Sebastian to Jace and me.

I reached for Jace's hand and entwined our fingers, looking up at him.

_How had he known that this was almost exactly what I had needed?_

He stood and pulled me up with him, leading me down onto the sand. I took my shoes off and held them in my spare hand, somehow finding it in me to absolutely adore the feel of the freezing cold sand on my toes.

The beach was fairly clear of people, only a few scattered across the sand. And if the weather was warmer – a _lot_ warmer – I would've dipped my toes in the water; as it were, I wasn't going to risk getting frostbite.

Jace and I walked hand-in-hand about half of the length of the beach before turning around and doing it again. And another time.

Sometimes silence was the best thing.

We drove all the way back to the apartment building in silence too, before parting ways on the elevator, I told Jace quietly that I should probably talk to Isabelle for a bit and that I might come up later. Though, if I was going to talk to Isabelle _and_ sort out my thoughts, it was going to take a lot longer than Jace was probably expecting.

I turned my phone off, putting it in my bedside drawer as soon as I was inside, not wanting any disruptions. I couldn't find Isabelle anywhere in the apartment, but I didn't worry. She was probably out shopping.

I just went to my bedroom and laid on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

_I'd been lied to for my whole life. Even by my mother, who I'd thought was the most trustworthy person in the world. And what does that say about my judgement? She hadn't explained whether I was Nephilim or not, whether it was a blood thing – Valentine probably thought so – or whether simply not believing in it meant that I wasn't a member of their secret game._

_ Whilst I trusted Jace entirely, there was still one thing that I couldn't quite trust him with: my heart. And it damn near broke me to even think the thought. I wanted for us to work out. I _loved_ him – even if I wasn't prepared to say that I was _in love_ with him._

_ And Sebastian was connected to both of these issues. By being a friend of my father and brother and also being some crazy psycho who believed in demons, and downworlders – whatever the hell 'downworlders' were._

_ Then there were the smaller problems. Like Si dating both Maia and Isabelle. I didn't even know what he should be doing about that. I wanted to find it in my heart to care, but honestly, right now, I couldn't._

When I glanced at my digital clock, it said that it was almost six in the evening. I turned my phone on, expecting a message from Jace.

There was actually three text messages from Jace.

One: _Hey Clary. I just thought you should know that I'm here for you. X_

Two: _Hi again. Are you going to be coming up soon? Mag wants to know how much Chinese to order for dinner. X_

Three: _Seriously, Clary. If you don't get your gorgeous bum up here soon I'm going to come and kick your door in. X_

That last one time-stamped as fifteen minutes ago. I heard our doorbell buzz and went to answer it. I checked through the peephole to make sure that it was, in fact, Jace. It was. I had no surprise guests today.

"Hey," he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind himself.

"Hi," I said back.

"Are you okay?"

I sighed. And apparently that was answer enough for Jace, because he wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips to the top of my head. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

He picked me up and carried me to the couch, laying me down along its length. He hovered over me, and finally our mouths met. Except when we went for it this time, it was different – for me, at least, if not him too – it felt like a sort of desperation, as if our connection could stop me from thinking all of the wild thoughts I'd been entertaining in the past few hours.

Jace was nipping his way along my collarbones, my t-shirt and bra already claimed by the floor – as was Jace's shirt – then when his thumbs slipped under the hem of my cotton undies, I finally told him to stop.

"What's wrong?"

"This – it doesn't feel right."

"You mean _us_?"

"No, no. We're great, but I don't want this to go further like _this_. We're not on the right emotional wavelength or something."

"You know that means nothing to me, right?"

I blushed, profusely as I said, "I read it in a Mills and Boon novel once, I think."

"So you're saying that you're not in the mood?"

"Kind of . . ." I hedged. "I just feel messed up inside, Jace. I want our first time to be special, you know. Not just on some couch –"

"Your couch," he muttered.

"When I'm feeling so . . ." I trailed off, unsure of the right word.

"So . . ." he prompted.

"Vulnerable, I guess, so weak and –"

"Stop. Right there." I hushed, looking into his golden eyes. "You do know that you're not vulnerable or weak, least of all in my eyes. I've never thought you were vulnerable."

"I –" couldn't help the tears that escaped from my eyes in the following minutes. Jace lifted me up, manoeuvring us until he was sitting upright and I was cradled in his lap, my arms around his neck, my face pressed against his bare skin.

"Clary, _shh_," he soothed.

_Why was he being so nice? The normal Jace Wayland would be telling me to man up and get the hell over it._

_ Not that I didn't appreciate this Jace._

He continued to soothe me, right until my tears were dry and beyond, holding me in his arms and lap, not saying a word as he ran his hand over my hair, again and again.

_I really needed to man the hell up._

**JxC**

When Isabelle arrived home, I'd been asleep on Jace's lap, curled up into the foetal position – though I heard all of this second-hand. Obviously I wasn't awake – and Izzy had offered to go up to the penthouse and get our share of the Chinese that Magnus was ordering. In Isabelle's absence it had been that Jace had woken me, and I would have burst into tears all over again, but I reminded myself that I was a strong, independent woman. I could handle a few small problems.

_ Pfft, a few small problems? And independent – _really_? Have you even looked at the way you're clutching to your boyfriend as if letting go would result in your death?_

I ignored my brain and gave Jace a small smile. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," I half-lied. "I loved our date last night, by the way."

He held me tight against his chest for a bit before suggesting that I have a shower. I did so, taking my time washing my body and hair. When I walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, Isabelle smiled at me. "How are you?"

"Fine," I told her. "Thanks. Did you have a good day?"

"Oh, yes," she grinned.

"Tell me about it, when I'm dressed?" I asked, eager for a distraction.

"Of course," she replied. "Oh, and Jace is in your room."

"Ah, thanks."

I went into my room and found Jace lying on my bed, his eyes closed. "Hey Clary," he murmured.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked as I went to my wardrobe.

"Because I told Isabelle to leave me the bugger alone until dinnertime." I looked at him, but his eyes were still closed.

I pulled on a pair of undies and my winter pyjamas before laying down beside Jace, resting my head on his heart, listening to its steady, pounding rhythm.

"Come here," Jace murmured.

"I am here," I told him.

"No, silly. Kiss me."

I lifted myself up, straddling his waist, I leaned down and pressed my lips against his. It didn't take long for my breathing to become shallow and fast, wanting more, so much more. But I wouldn't let us go there. Not yet.

Not until I could trust him with my heart.

"Clary?"

"Yeah?" He didn't say anything for a moment, and I wondered if he was building up to something big – maybe even something beginning with L . . .

"I'm hungry. Can we go and eat?"

I refrained from slapping my palm to my forehead for being so idiotic. Only God knew if Jace actually knew how to be in love in the first place.

**JxC**

_Monday 24__th__ January_

When we went back to work, I threw myself into it, working hard to organise every aspect of Jace's life. I cleaned my computer's desktop, mucked around with the settings on both my iPhone and iPad. And by the end of the work day, I had everything worked out and I hadn't once seen Sebastian – hear me heave a sigh of relief right about now?

"Clary," Jace said quietly as we walked into the office's car park, "do you want to see the office psychologist-slash-therapist?"

Honestly? I was shocked. "No," I said firmly, feeling my brow furrow. "I don't need to."

He looked like he wanted to snap at me, but he gritted his teeth and held it in.

I knew that I should probably apologise, after all I was the one who'd snapped, but I couldn't help it. And I didn't want to apologise.

I went straight to my apartment after we got back home, leaving Jace in the elevator – and feeling a tiny bit guilty about it. I was supposed to be his girlfriend. Some girlfriend I was.

"Hey Isabelle," I called once I'd closed our apartment door. "You at home?"

"In the bathroom," she replied. "I'll be out in a minute."

I hung my coat over the back of one of the barstools, heading into the kitchen.

I searched our cupboards and finding next to nothing, I decided we'd be having spag bog.

Once Isabelle had returned, I entrusted her cooking skills to making sure the minced beef was cooked all the way through and adding the tinned tomatoes and spaghetti sauce. I did the pasta half and soon enough we were plating up, and leaving the leftovers in the fridge.

"So how are you?" Izzy asked as we sat down. "You've been different lately."

"Did Jace tell you?" I asked her.

"Well," she began. "He told me that you know about Nephilim and the crazies, but that was all he said." _Thank the lords._

"I'm all right, just a little stressed out, I suppose. It's a lot to take in." Yep, and then you add in the fact that your parents were both Nephilim and never thought to tell you. And that you have some crazy guy obsessed with your boyfriend, and –

"It is, isn't it? Maybe you should come to the Institute one time."

"I, ah, don't think that would be a good idea." Imagine if Father was there. And Jonathon.

"Information overload?"

"Uh, yeah." _Let's go with that._ "Too much for my brain to handle all at once, you know."

"I totally get you," she replied. And I felt like shit for lying to her when all she was doing was being nice to me. Izzy deserved better. "But still, you should come. Just once, especially if you're going to be with Jace forever."

My mind did a double take on that one.

"Hold up there. _Forever_, Izzy?"

"Jace isn't _that_ bad. And there's nothing wrong with forever. You know, I've never seen him look at another woman like he looks at you, Clary."

Admittedly, that last part made my heart skip a couple of beats.

"I'm being entirely serious. He never, ever looked at Aline like that. Then again, I never liked that woman."

I gave Izzy a meek smile.

And I _did_ need to unload. Maybe talking to a therapist would be a good idea.

We ate in silence for the rest of our meal. Sometimes I wished that I had a job that required me bringing things home at night to work on, I often sat at home and watched pointless soap operas because I simply had nothing better to do.

Or I read Mills and Boon novels, which I supposed I shouldn't be doing, because I had my very own sexy boyfriend who was eager to get into my pants, and was probably very good in bed. I tucked myself into bed after dinner and picked up one of these said novels, _Shadow Hawk,_ it was called.

It was about a man and a woman – obviously – who worked in the ATF, and had amazing chemistry – of course – but she had issues, because of . . . well, I'm not going to spoil it. But we all know that these novels have happy endings. And generally, explicit sex scenes.

_Chick porn,_ I'd heard some men call it. Most especially my brother.

Then at half past twelve, when I was still reading, Jace joined me in my room, and I didn't bother to ask how he'd gotten in. He dived under my doona and laid on his side, facing me as I continued to read my book.

The only problem that I had with these novels was that you just wanted to sit down and read them all at once.

Jace wriggled over to me and buried his face in my stomach.

"Hey," I murmured finally, running one of my hands through his hair.

"Hey," he replied, just as quietly.

"What brought you down here?" I asked.

"Am I not allowed to just visit my girlfriend?"

_I'm Jace Wayland's girlfriend._ "Of course you are."

I put my book down on my bedside table and leaned down to kiss him gently.

"You know," he began, "when you kiss me like that, you make me feel old."

"How so?"

"That's how parents kiss," he told me. "People our age kiss like this . . ."

Jace pulled me down so that I was laying beside him and forced his mouth on mine, hungrily devouring me, his fingers running up and down my body, finally pausing to massage the flesh of my breast.

I moaned. I couldn't help it. But Jace's lips swallowed the noise, somehow managing to pull me closer to him. When his mouth left mine and landed on my neck, nibbling and sucking, my only – human – woman – reaction was to arch my back and moan. Again.

"That, is how twenty-something-year-olds are supposed to kiss."

"What if I'm secretly forty?" I asked him.

"No forty-year-old is as beautiful as you," he said and I blushed, though it was hardly something to be blushing about. "You really are going to be perfect for the new campaign," he told me with a grin.

I reached across to the bedside table and turned off my light.

"Sleep," I told him.

"Don't wanna."

"You gotta."

"I'm sure I could change your mind."

"I'm sure you could too, but we have work in the morning."

"So? Caffeine was sent from the Heavens for a reason, you know."

"So was the ability to sleep, Jace. Goodnight." I turned my back to him but he just wrapped himself around me.

He sighed. "Goodnight, Clary." _I love you._

_ I love you too, Jace._

_ Ha!_ my brain laughed. _In your dreams, Clary._

_ Yeah, except actually._

**JxC**

_Tuesday 25__th__ January_

The only problem with organising Jace's entire life on Monday was that I had near nothing to do on Tuesday morning. And that resulted in me buying Plants Vs. Zombies – with the boss' permission, of course – and playing it on my work iPad for a good three hours. Sadly, while Plants Vs. Zombies is fun, it does get tedious after a few levels. I was currently on level 5-2, defeating Zombies with my peashooters and lawnmowers.

"I'm going to go and get lunch in the cafeteria," I told Jace over the phone, finally.

"All right," he replied. "I have to talk with the economics team, so I'll be taking my lunch late if you'd like to join me."

"For a second lunch?" I murmured into the receiver.

"Yeah. A second lunch. Sound good?"

"It sounds great. I'll see you."

_"Gros bisous."_

"Yeah, yeah. Big kisses to you too, Jace."

I hung up and went to the cafeteria, straightening my skirt on the way down.

A man – a familiar face – got onto the lift with me and it took a few moments for me to realise _why_ he was familiar. "Will," I said, smiling.

"Oh. Clary, right?"

"Yes. Where are you headed?"

"Lunch, actually. Are you free?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I am."

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI.**_** Never have, never will. OK, I own my copies of the book – but that's all, I swear!** _My own copies which I would _love_ to get signed on Cassie's _Clockwork Prince_ book tour – I mean, hell, she's coming to Australia, but my town? We just never get a look in. And I am so totally not paying for a flight to Sydney/Melbourne just to get one of my favourite YA book series' signed by the author. _Dammit.

_Sometimes Microsoft Word sucks. It tried to tell me that I should be writing "trustworthiest" instead of "most trustworthy". *rolls eyes* And, for my fellow Australians, or just anyone who doesn't know New York City (like me) South Beach actually exists. On Staten Island, wherever that is . . . (All I know about New York comes from _TMI, Castle _(which is actually filmed in L.A.)_ _and the Internet ;).)_

Australian terms:

Spag bog: _abbreviation for spaghetti bolognaise._

_Mr. Wayland wants you to review! ;)_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Maisy :) x_

_P.S. – This chapter goes out to the three anonymous reviews I got on the last chapter – _Bebe, breecool, dreamstar1995, Elena, Night Wolf _and _sweetchocalate._ Of course, I love all of my reviewers, but it's just damn hard to reply to anon. ones. Sigh._

_P.P.S. – If anyone wants to have a go at writing a good summary – for the front of my story – then it would be much appreciated :)._

**HERE'S SOMETHING IMPORTANT THAT YOU JUST MIGHT NEED/CARE A LOT TO KNOW:** I started school on Thursday morning, and so I won't be able to write/update as often. I had planned to have finished the story by the end of summer, but obviously that hasn't happened. But have faith in me – I _will_ finish this story! If later rather than sooner. This is my final year of school, and I need to concentrate on my studies more than I did last year – last year, I was _such_ a slob. I've half-written Chapter Eighteen, but you know, it's not finished. Anyway. Enjoy this one on me! (It might be my last for a bit, while I try to get into school habits!)

X


	19. To My LOVELY READERS

_From the desk of miss marion x. (Yeah, I changed my screenname, hope that doesn't confuse too many of my lovely readers.)_

I am a simply awful person, I know. It's been well over a month since I updated last. I just wanted to let you all know that I haven't died and I most definitely haven't given up on this story. It's just that I'm in my final year of school before going off into the big, bad and real world so I'm trying to study super hard for this. In turn it doesn't leave much time for writing fanfiction. I have actually written the next chapter, but I haven't edited it and I want to finish the one after it before I post it. I know where I'm taking this story. I know (okay, have a vague yet clear idea of) how it is going to end (it's not going to be a tragic ending, do not fret).

I'm busy writing articles for the school newspaper (I'm the assistant editor as well, so there's some extra work for me). I'm writing essays and doing journal work for my Art Production (Ceramics) course. I have a heap of Sociology work and lots of words to work out that I don't know the meanings of-it's all very confusing stuff. And then in English writing, we're always doing "practice" or having people come in to talk to us or working away on our school laptops.

Sigh.

I just really, really wanted you to know that I haven't given up. This isn't going to be one of those stories that never gets finished. I will finish it. Ideally, there will be twenty-five chapters (and an epilogue if you guys want it) and it will be finished by the May/June school holidays. If it's not finished by then, well, I'll have the time to write the rest of it (during long flights to the U.S. and long bus rides from major cities on the East Coast of the U.S.A. and wherever I can find time in between).

I love you all for sticking by me through this. I hope we will get to speak again soon.

_~ Marion :) X  
_


	20. Chapter EIGHTEEN

_I'm putting a rather serious citrus warning on this chapter. Enjoy it! ;) Also, take notice of the dates. We've skipped from Jan 22 to Feb 5, here._

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

A man – a familiar face – got onto the lift with me and it took a few moments for me to realise _why_ he was familiar. "Will," I said, smiling.

"Oh. Clary, right?"

"Yes. Where are you headed?"

"Lunch, actually. Are you free?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I am."

**JxC**

**Chapter EIGHTEEN**

_Saturday 5__th__ February_

Sometimes I felt like my relationship with Jace was perched solely on our physical chemistry. I couldn't deny that it was there, but I didn't want to end up like another Aline. I _wouldn't_ end up like another Aline Penhallow, working the front desk of a huge company with my crazy red hair pulled back into a tight bun, a fake grin plastered on my mouth like lipstick.

"Clary?" Jace murmured, his fingers skimming along my skin.

"Mmmh?" I moaned when he brushed the sensitive skin at my hipbone.

"Shower?" he asked quietly.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He licked a wet trail up the side of my neck; I would have complained at the grossness of such an action, but it was more of a turn-on than I could have imagined, my back arching, pushing my breasts into Jace's face.

_My bare breasts,_ I realised a beat too late. "What happened to my – _your_ shirt?"

Jace smirked at me, his blonde hair falling in his eyes as he cocked his head to the side a little. "It looks better on the floor."

I rolled my eyes.

"So, you up for that shower?"

I worried my lip. "I don't think that naked is a good idea."

"I have a bikini in my wardrobe," he told me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I didn't realise you wore bikinis."

"Haven't you seen me in a bikini? I look _se-ex-y_."

I raised an eyebrow.

"The point being, you can wear the bikini, if you don't want to be naked.

_So caring,_ I thought, _so weird._

"And you?" I asked.

"Will be starkers, but hey. I bet you like that."

I felt my face flush, unable to deny it.

He smirked, raised an eyebrow and then leaned in to kiss me.

I ran my hands down his back, feeling the scars that I'd discovered in the past few weeks, my fingertips travelling lower and lower until I discovered that he wasn't wearing boxers or briefs.

His fingers gripped my hips tightly, twisting me until he could press his hips against mine, his steadily growing arousal against my core.

I went to wriggle back, to get away from that which was making my undies dampen, but somehow I ended up pushing us closer together.

Jace tucked his thumbs under the hem of my undies, holding me close to him.

"Now?" he murmured.

"Now?" I asked, confused. "Do you mean _sex_?"

"Gosh, Clary. Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant our shower."

His fingers dipped low inside my undies, his thumb grazing over my clitoris, making me shiver with antici . . . _pation._

_Rocky Horror_ moment. I squeezed my eyes shut, not daring a glance at Jace.

"Shower," I choked out. "Please."

"Open your eyes," he ordered and I did, looking up at my Jace, a smirk on his face. _My Jace. Fuck, I was in deep._

The only thing covering us from the world was a thin, white cotton sheet. The only thing protecting me from Jace was a thin pair of cotton undies. Then Jace got out of bed, clambering over me. He went to the wardrobe and found the said bikini. It was a tiny white number, but I barely noticed it because I was too busy staring at Jace's, ahem, goods.

He held the tiny strips of material up to his body, and they didn't cover anything. With a chortle, he chucked them at me. "I'll go and warm up the shower. Get changed into that bikini."

I had a feeling that he had no intentions of letting me keep it on – especially not the top. I could probably keep the bottoms on, but the top . . .

I tried them both on.

The bottoms were mostly string, and too big for me, so I knotted the string to tighten them, glad that the covered my important parts. The top was a lot too big for my small breasts. And I decided that there was absolutely no point in bothering with it.

Jace was standing in the shower, naked as he'd been before, running his hands through his hair, washing the shampoo out. God, he was quick. I closed the en suite door behind me, locking it as well. Since Jace was looking at the wall, I took the opportunity to brush through my hair and weigh my breasts in my palms, looking at myself in the mirror.

_Still small as ever._

"Clary?"

"Mmm."

"Get in the shower already. I'm perfectly qualified to feel up your boobs for you."

"Qualified?" I asked as I stepped into the stall, loving the water falling on my skin.

"As a sort of doctor. I can do a breast cancer check, if you'd like."

"I'm hoping I don't have breast cancer, sort of doctor." I told him, stepping closer.

"So am I," he replied, taking a step toward me, taking my breasts in his hands, giving them a squeeze that made me moan. "I was also hoping that you would decide to do away with the bikini altogether, but I guess this will do."

"It's going to have to," I told him, putting my hands on his shoulders.

He moved his hands to my bum, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles together, my heels pressing into his bum cheeks.

Jace's lips were on mine faster than I could say – well, there was no time for _any_ words. Eventually – God knew how long we'd been making out, wet, naked flesh against wet, naked flesh – Jace set me back down on the tiled floor, my back almost stinging from the harshness of being pressed up against the cold tiled wall, and cleaned my body while I washed my hair.

"You certainly don't worry about the environment much," I told him as we got out of his shower and I wrapped myself in the red towel, warm from the heated towel rail.

"Of course I worry about the environment. What's that saying? 'Save water. Shower with friends.'"

"Actually," I began as he rubbed his hair dry with a white towel, "I was going to say that we were in the shower for a . . . long, _long_ while. Probably used enough water for ten showers."

He pressed his lips to mine, effectively killing a few more brain cells that I so desperately needed to keep track of the conversation. "What was that?"

I pulled his mouth back down to mine, muttering "Doesn't matter."

**JxC**

After managing to escape from Jace's penthouse, I went down to Isabelle's and my apartment, engaging in a short and jocular conversation with Izzy, before disappearing into my room. I saw a wire-bound art journal peeking out from my wardrobe and picked it out.

"Clary Morgenstern," I read. I opened the book and flipped through the pages slowly, looking at each pencil sketch I'd done seriously, spotting the details I'd thrown in when I was younger.

It had been a hell of a long time since I'd drawn anything, except that time when I'd drawn on my notepad at work . . . but that time did not count. I spent a good half hour searching for my old pencil case, trying to remember where I'd put it.

I sat down again and flipped to the next page, seeing only a swirling black pattern. I hadn't drawn since my father had thrown me into his work. I chewed down on my lip hard.

I pulled my iPhone from my pocket and dialled my mother's number.

"Hello Clary," I could hear Jocelyn's smile at the other end of the line, "how are you, gorgeous?"

"I just found my art journal," I told her.

"Your old one?"

I nodded, then realising she couldn't see me and added a "Yup."

"Ah-huh . . ." she prodded.

"The point being, I'm not sure where my pencil case is and I was wondering if –"

"I have it here!" she announced, gleeful. "I'll post it down to you right away. Get excited, honey. And borrow a pencil off of Isabelle Lightwood until it gets there."

_So excited. _"What's the big deal here?"

"Well," she began, her voice dripping with dramatic tension, "you know all of the paintings around our house here . . ."

"Yep."

"Well . . ?"

"Did I do them?" I asked, honestly clueless.

"Sorry, but no, honey. Your medium was never paints. They're mine. I _loved_ painting, but your father . . ."

"Is a complete tool," I finished. "I know."

"Well, I wouldn't say that _exactly_."

I rolled my eyes at this. "Still . . . those paintings. But there's one thing, Mum. I get all of these drawings, but there's this one that I've done . . . it's like a tribal pattern or something, entirely black. I don't know what it means." I traced my finger over the lines, following the pattern.

"I'm sorry to say I can't shed any light on that one, honey."

I grimaced.

"I think I might have to come and visit you next weekend. Does that suit?"

"Ah, sure. I think that'll be fine."

"Great!"

I smiled. "I look forward to it."

And after we hung up, I found myself tracing over the lines, over and over again until they were burned into my memory, finding myself thinking that the pattern would make for a nice tattoo.

**JxC**

Isabelle took me shopping that afternoon. We went through so many New York City boutiques that my feet – though I'd worn flats and not the heels that Izzy had tried to force me into – were feeling red and raw, however un-blistered they were. And then we almost walked right past a small store with 'Elijah Fox' scribbled across the glass window.

I grabbed on Izzy's arm to make her stop and she just looked at it. "What about it?"

"Elijah Fox . . . I loved his work."

"What? Before he became normal?"

"We are going inside," I told Isabelle, dragging her inside.

"God, what has gotten into you? There's no point in being in love with a gay guy, you realise."

"I'm not in love with a gay guy," I began, "I'm in love with –"_ Shit._

"In love with . . ." Izzy prodded.

"In love with a gay guy's _work_. There's a big difference," I told her.

"In love with my work, huh?" an unusually normal-looking Magnus said, walking in from the backroom of the store. "What can I do for you ladies today?"

"Cut the crap, Mag," Isabelle said with a wave of her hand. "I was going to walk right past, but Clary insisted . . ."

"You did?" he grinned. "Let's get you into something right away! What's your budget?"

"Ah, um –"

"Don't worry. We can throw it on Jace's work expenses tab or something."

I ground my teeth together. That wouldn't do. "No," I told him. "My budget is five hundred. Do I get a discount for being the girlfriend of your boyfriend's _parabatai_?" _What did that word mean again?_

"You get a discount for knowing that word. You and our Jacey-Wacey must be close, huh." He walked around the store, grabbing pieces of material off random racks. His store wasn't set out neatly at all; instead he'd crammed as much as he could into the small space.

"Do people not come here very often?" I asked, squeezing in between two racks, fingering through the shirts there.

"I don't really advertise, so the few customers I do have just happen by like you did, have been doing their research or walk straight past, thinking that I'm a fraud. Not that I care. It's not like this shop is about the money."

"I suppose you would've already made enough money from Elijah Fox to last a lifetime."

"Pretty much, though I don't really need money all that much. I have my Alexander."

"That's sweet," Isabelle said, her voice too saccharine. "Can we please leave here soon?"

I raised my eyebrows at her. "I've been trotting around stores all afternoon with you. I can take you into _one_ store for a few minutes. Got it?"

She flopped onto the chair behind the counter. "Whatever."

"Try these on," Magnus said, taking my handbag and pushing me towards the one changing room in his store.

"No pinching my phone and sending kinky messages to Jace while I'm in here," I told them.

Magnus grinned. "Thanks for the idea, honey."

**JxC**

I left Magnus' store with two dresses, a blouse, a skirt, a pair of jeans and a cute leather belt. Isabelle and I stopped in for a coffee at the Clockwork Angel before heading back to our apartment, where Izzy organised my wardrobe. "Next weekend," she announced as I was trying to decide on what to cook for dinner, "we should go out. Pandemonium?"

I groaned.

"Oh, right. I forgot about that. Still, it's usually a good club, Clary."

"Yeah, right."

"I'll try and think of a better club, but there are few as awesome as Pandemonium."

"Is it like some sort of Neffie thing? Pandemonium, that is."

"Nephilim," she corrected. "And sort of, but they get a lot of weird types."

I could definitely agree with that, Mr. Tall, Sweaty and Kind Of Cute coming to mind. Eventually I decided on beef schnitzel and vegetables for dinner and started cooking while Isabelle caught up with the daytime TV shows she'd recorded.

After dinner, I sat down and read a book, running my fingers through my hair, pulling out all of the loose strands.

Isabelle finally slapped my hand away from my hair, saying, "If you keep doing that you're going to go bald, Ginger Megs!"

"Ginger Megs?" I asked. "Really? That's so unoriginal."

"Shut up, Clary. I couldn't think of anyone else who had red hair."

"Ah, well."

"Seriously, though. Tie your hair up or something. Plus, it's freaking me out."

"Fine," I muttered. "Got a hairband?"

She passed me an elastic hairband that was on her wrist and I pulled my hair up into a ponytail. "Happy now?"

She grinned. "As long as you keep your hands out of your hair."

I did, for the rest of the evening. But when I went to bed, I just couldn't stop raking my fingers through my hair. Maybe it was some sort of nervous condition or something. And it _was_ beginning to freak me out too, but I just couldn't stop. I really needed to talk to someone professional about all this. Though I didn't want Jace breathing down my neck about it, so I'd have to be sneaky, use my lunch break or something like that. Then somewhere along that trail of thought, I lost consciousness.

**JxC**

_Monday 7__th__ February_

When Jace finally met me at his car, he smiled at me. "Hey, gorgeous. How was your Sunday?"

"Not all that exciting," I told him, folding my arms around his waist. "Yours?"

"I missed you," he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. "And I think we might have to remedy that sometime today."

_"Now?"_ I breathed.

"Well, we could do now if you were really – I mean, I didn't take you for a girl who was into PDA."

I held him away a bit, so that I could see his face. I looked at him sternly. "One, I'm a woman, not a girl. Two, I'm not into PDA. I was going to say no to now."

"It's too early for all this confusion," he decided, leaning down to kiss me, his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against his body. I kissed him back, eagerly, of course. I pushed my fingers up into his hair, threading them through his blonde locks. Then I remembered Saturday night, with Isabelle, telling me to keep my fingers out of my hair and I broke our kiss.

"We should go to work. It'll look bad if I'm late."

"_Psssh,_" Jace said with a wave of his hand. "No one will care."

I cupped his jaw with my hand, rubbing my thumb across his smooth cheek. "I care, Jace," I said quietly.

He sighed and shoved a hand into his pocket, and upon pressing a button his car's indicators flashed twice and we got inside.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest, trying to relax a little bit more. When Jace told me that we'd arrived what felt like a few minutes later I realised I must've dozed off.

**JxC**

I managed to sneak away when Jace had to go to a meeting, meeting with the company's psycho-therapist-whatever person. A Charlotte Branwell.

"Miss Fairchild," she said as I opened the door. "How may I help you?"

I sat in the chair in front of her desk, completely unsure of what I was really supposed to be saying.

"I, um. It's just that – ever since I started my job here, almost everything in my life seems to have gone . . . I'm not sure. Belly up? And I'm just – it's – I don't know how to deal with it."

Charlotte gave me a meek smile. "Would you like to meet with me regularly?"

"I don't want Ja—Mr. Wayland knowing about this, Miss Branwell."

"Actually, it's Mrs. Branwell," she told me, holding up her left hand, a gold ring sparkling there.

"Oh, congratulations."

"Mmm. They haven't changed my sign yet. Oh well. What day suits you best?"

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI, ID **_**or **_**The Rocky Horror Picture Show.**_

_Words (that are not necessarily Australian):_

Jocular: _fond of or characterized by joking; humorous or playful_

_So I am absolutely terrible at updating – it's been over a month! – and I apologise, but I hope this chapter satisfied your hunger and that you're still with me. If you are, I adore you and you are simply -king brilliant. Keep your eyes open for Chapter NINETEEN. It's on its way!_

_My smexy Jace Wayland wants you to review! (Tell me, did you enjoy yet another almost-lemon of mine?)_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Marion :) X_

_P.S. – This chapter goes out to_ amylangue_, who reminded me that Clary is _artistic_!_

_P.P.S. – Don't say anything about _CoFA;_ I haven't read it yet (obviously, since it's being released on Tuesday!) but I don't know if I'll be buying it, because I want it to be the same height as my other ones, not taller or anything stupid. Sigh. We'll see, I suppose.  
_


	21. Chapter NINETEEN

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

Charlotte gave me a meek smile. "Would you like to meet with me regularly?"

"I don't want Ja—Mr. Wayland knowing about this, Miss Branwell."

"Actually, it's Mrs. Branwell," she told me, holding up her left hand, a gold ring sparkling there.

"Oh, congratulations."

"Mmm. They haven't changed my sign yet. Oh well. What day suits you best?"

**JxC**

**Chapter NINETEEN**

_Wednesday 9__th__ February_

It was a while coming, but after a few sessions with Mrs. Branwell, we came to the conclusion – well, _I_ came to the conclusion that there was something in my life that wasn't clicking. Something that had only began in my life when I started working here. Which left only a few options: this whole Nephilim thing, which I could hardly forget, and was completely connected to Sebastian Verlac, my brother and my father. It could've been Simon re-entering my life, but I doubted it somehow. And the only other thing that had really changed in my life was my new group of friends. Isabelle, Magnus, Maia, Alec, Will.

But then there was one more option, one that I refused to consider.

I refused to even think it.

Though Mrs. Branwell had mentioned it to me. She had a sharp mind, that woman.

"How's things?" I asked as I sat at my usual Wednesday lunch table.

The black-haired man with striking blue eyes sighed.

"No good then?"

"Jem is . . ." he bit into his sandwich. "He's just so much better than me."

"I'm sure he's not, you're you," I told Will, sticking my fork into my salad – possibly a little too violently.

"What about you?" he asked, easily steering the conversation from himself.

I took a deep breath, swallowed a bite of lettuce. "I'm trying to work out what's going wrong in my life."

"Shadowhunters" was Will's immediate answer. "They're idiots, the bunch of 'em. Demons, vamps, werewolves, fairfolk, warlocks, they don't exist. It's impossible that they do."

I hadn't told Will that I was together with the boss, but I'd told him about the Shadowhunter-slash-Neffie stuff and Simon-and-Maia-and-Isabelle (he was pro-Isabelle, thought Maia was from the wrong side of town).

"So how do I get Sebastian, my father and my brother out of my life?"

"Kill them."

"I can't do that."

"I suppose it is illegal. Maybe you should go to Idris."

"To _where_?"

"The home country. Idris. Haven't you heard of it?"

I shook my head.

"You really do know nothing."

I gave Will a half smile, simply because it was true. I couldn't get rid of the Nephilim in my life. Half of my friends were Nephilim, to cut them out of my life . . . it would be heartbreaking.

**JxC**

Luke called me when Jace and I were driving home, his voice bringing a smile to my lips. "I haven't seen you in so long, Clary."

I exhaled, a sigh of relief. "I've missed you, Luke."

"Missed my bear hugs, huh?"

"Maybe not those," I said.

"So what's up, poss?"

"Life, the universe and everything," I murmured, fully aware that Jace was sitting beside me, holding my left hand in his right. "I'll come up this weekend. We could talk then?"

"We'd love to have you, Clary," Luke replied. "Oh, your mother says hello."

"So do I. I have to go, sorry. Love you both."

"Love you too, Clary," Luke said, and we hung up.

"How's Luke?" Jace asked, smiling at me.

"He sounded well."

"Oh, tonight," Jace began, "I'm having dinner with some of the company heads, and it probably won't finish until late, so . . ."

"So?"

"Well, you're welcome to sleep in my bed, if you want."

"Ah. Okay."

"Okay," he smiled.

I felt the silence getting to me, but I did nothing to change it, didn't reach for the radio, didn't reach for my iPhone.

**JxC**

I did sleep in Jace's bed that night, hoping that his scent would remind me that we were good together, that we made a good couple. His room was silent, apart me rolling over and ruffling the sheet every so often. The main problem with silence was that it allowed me way too much time to think. The only thing that seemed to have really changed with my new job was – _I couldn't think it._ I simply couldn't. Because I – because I loved Jace Wayland.

A sliver of light fell into his dark bedroom as the door clicked open.

"Oh, you are in there," he murmured, a smile in his voice. "Alec and Mag have gone to bed already. You awake?"

"Yeah," I told him. "I couldn't sleep."

I lifted my head up off of the pillow as he closed the door. He walked over to the bed, crawled up towards me. "How were those few hours without me?"

"Boring," I said with a smile.

"The dinner was incredibly boring, lots of men and one woman trying to schmooze me into giving their area of the company more funds."

He flicked on the bedside lamp and kissed my nose, then my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead.

"Jace," I whispered.

"Mmm?" he held my face gently in his palms.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," he replied, the pads of his thumbs smoothing over my cheeks. "Nothing's wrong; everything's great. I just wanted to," he was silent, and kissed me, slowly, gently . . . "I wanted to make love to you."

"Oh," I murmured. _"Oh."_

His lips were against my neck, and then he was pulling his old blue shirt over my head, kissing my shoulder, my neck, I couldn't help but moan.

I loosened his tie, pulling it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor.

His shirt went next, and his belt, his undershirt too.

_We were going to make love._

We_ were going to _make love.

"Jace, I – I –"

"Yeah?"

"Take off your pants."

Jace smirked and I smirked right back at him.

**JxC**

_Thursday 10__th__ February_

When I woke in the morning feeling more content than I had in a long time, I stretched my arms up over my head and straightened out my legs, trying to make the muscles as long as possible. Jace's arm tightened around my waist and I smiled to myself.

"Sleep well?" he asked, his lips brushing over my ear.

After Round One, I had been completely exhausted – Jace was one hell of a lover, without a doubt the best I'd ever had – and I'd fallen asleep to Jace's lips pressed against every centimetre of my skin.

I had slept better than I had in a long, long time, I told him so.

When I glanced over at the clock I groaned.

On a good day it took forty-five minutes to get to work and I was supposed to get there at seven thirty. It was six thirty now. "Jace, we have to get up."

"We could take a sick day."

I wanted to. I was scared that if we left this room then last night would seem like a distant memory, hidden deep in the recesses of my mind. At the same time, though, I wanted to go into work and tell Isabelle and go back to the real world, make it seem real between us.

I had made love with Jace Wayland, arguably the sexiest blond man on the planet.

**JxC**

When we did get into work – an hour late, might I add – I kept seeing Jace looking at me kind of funnily. I couldn't put a name to what his expression held, not really.

I ran my hands through my hair, wondering if it was time to get it cut, try a new look perhaps. Perhaps after the shoot would be a better idea.

The phone rang.

"Hello, this is Miss Fairchild speaking, Mr. Wayland's assistant. How may I help you today?"

"Clary!"

"Izzy?"

"Yes, me, you fool. Where were you this morning?"

"I overslept," I said. "My alarm didn't go off."

"Jace's alarm, you mean."

"Yeah."

"You were both late."

"Yes," I said, unknowing of where she was going.

"There are very few reasons why a man and a woman who share a bed might be late for work and I don't think it has anything to do with a faulty alarm."

"Izzy!" I hissed.

"You're not denying it!"

There was a deeper voice at Isabelle's end of the phone, one that sounded angry.

"Unfortunately, I have to do some work. We will talk about this at lunchtime, Clary. Don't think you're getting out of this."

"I'm having lunch with Jace," I fudged.

"When we get home –" It sounded like someone snatched the phone from her hand and slammed it down on the receiver.

"Oops," I murmured, smiling.

I collected Jace's dry-cleaning, called the Clockwork Angel to make sure that they'd hold a table for us, I visited practically every floor of the building, handing out notices and letters.

Lunch with Jace was surprisingly pleasant. He didn't make any stupid jokes or innuendos (or in-your-endos, as I had once heard him call them). When I caught him staring at me, he looked like he was a bit spaced out, with that funny expression plastered on his face again.

"We should watch a movie when we get home," I said after a minute of no talking.

"As long as it's not a chick flick."

"It's not," I said with a smile.

"I'm suspicious now."

"There's no need to be. It's an action flick. I'll pick it up from a movie store in the afternoon."

I smirked when he wasn't looking. There _was_ some action in the film, but it wasn't an action movie.

**JxC**

I blindfolded Jace when we got back to the apartment with my blue, long-sleeved shirt – the one that had been his – while I put the DVD in the machine.

"This better be a good movie."

"It is," I replied. "Lots of people from my father's office loved it."

"That does not sound promising. Weren't most of the people in your department women?"

"Yeah, they were." I sat on his lap, and his hands settled on my bum. I leaned in and kissed his cheek before rubbing my cheek against his, feeling the stubble there.

The menu came up on the screen and I hopped off his lap, taking off his blindfold I hit Play on the remote.

It became obvious that Jace was more interested in me than _Killers_, but I wanted to watch it so I ignored him for as long as I could. When I broke, moaning, he kissed me hard on the lips.

"Can we please just watch the movie?" I asked. "You're great and everything – and I _loved_ last night but I also love this movie."

Jace let me lean against him, not trying anything funny until Katherine Heigl asked her family if they had any other secrets and Ashton Kutcher looked her right in the eye and said "In the third week we were together you said 'I love you' in your sleep, and I didn't tell you because I wanted to be the one who said it first." I felt his body tighten next to me but I didn't say anything.

When the movie finished, he tucked me into his side and I melted there.

The door clicked open and Magnus was suddenly in the apartment. "Hey lovebirds. How come I didn't see Jacey-Wacey or Clare-Bear today?"

"Jacey-Wacey was working hard," I said, "and I was doing rounds."

"Rounds of what?" Magnus asked as he sat down beside me, seizing my slip up. "Rounds of ones, twos and threes?"

"We did not have sex at work," Jace told him.

I nodded my agreement.

Alec walked in with the mail in his hand. "Not having sex at work implies that you had sex somewhere else."

_God. Did I give off some kind of vibe or something!_

"We did n—" Jace broke off, looking at me.

Magnus poked my ribs with a blue sparkled nail. "You! Oh, my Angel! You two had sex!"

I covered my face with my hands and Jace wrapped his arm around me tighter. "Leave us alone, Mag."

"Defensive, much?"

"With you around, it's pretty much necessary. Can we get pizza for dinner?"

Alec sighed. "I reckon. Is Scorchers all right?"

"Mmm. Clary'll have a chicken calzone and I'll have a large garlic prawn."

I would have argued, but I couldn't be bothered and my face was still red hot, plus chicken calzone sounded damn good to me.

"Okay. I'll give Izzy a ring, see if she wants to join us."

My face burned hotter and I wondered if my freckles would get burnt off.

"Come on," Jace murmured. "Let's go hide for a bit."

"No doing the dirty deed while I'm awake!" Mag said.

Jace chucked one of my heels at him.

**JxC**

Magnus was not very good at keeping secrets, I learnt the minute that Izzy walked into the apartment, Will on her arm. "Iz! Jace and Clary they did _it_."

Her eyes narrowed at me and I hid myself behind Jace. "I knew it!"

"Clary?" Will asked cautiously. "As in Wednesday lunchtime Clary?"

I peeked out from behind Jace, looking Will in his blue eyes. He stared right back at me.

"Clary," Izzy said, her voice scary. "We need to talk."

Jace stepped away, no longer shielding me. _Traitor_. "Go on, have a women talk. We'll drink beer."

Isabelle grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bathroom, leaving Will in the living room looking shocked.

She locked the door behind us and I stood up straight, ready to defend myself, when she threw her arms around my shoulders. "Congratulations!"

_Hang on. _"What?"

"You finally got it together!"

"Actually it was Jace who –"

"Details. Not important. I'm proud, okay? It's about damned time, that's all." Could making love with Jace really change how I viewed the world? It seemed silly.

"Now let's go and eat some pizza."

The calzone was amazing.

**JxC**

I wanted to speak to Will alone, to try and explain things to him, but I didn't think that Jace would like me having one-on-one time with another bloke. It shouldn't matter, though, we were just friends. When Jace went to the loo, Will cornered me. "You know what I think the problem in your life is?"

"No," I said. "But I'd love to hear it."

"It's him. Jace Wayland. He's not good, Clary. Maybe he's great in the sack – it's not like I'd know – maybe he's being kind, maybe you think he's changed, but people don't change, Clary. Angel knows I've been trying to change for Tessa, but I can't. Think about Aline, think about the hundreds of girls before her. You don't deserve to become one of those women, Clary. You're better than that. He's a –"

Jace took one look at me and Will when he returned and walked over calmly, cutting off our conversation completely. He shot a look at Will and he scampered to Izzy's side.

"Was he giving you trouble?" Jace asked, holding my face in between his palms.

"No, we were just talking."

Jace sighed. "Don't you understand that I –" he broke off, blinking like he couldn't comprehend what he was about to say. "That you're mine now, I don't think it's quite appropriate to talk to other men."

"Right," I said. "We're going to talk about this later, though, Jace."

I was going to tell him that just because we'd made love twice didn't mean that he was my keeper, that I was perfectly capable of looking after myself and that Will was most definitely not interested in me.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI **_**or **_**ID.**_** Go figure.**

_Short chapter, I know, and I apologise, but I wanted to get it up (not intended in-your-endo, hehe) quicker. TWENTY'll be here soon, I promise! And I'm a prude and a virgin – I am incapable of writing an actual sex scene (I did try for you guys, but it was so awful I just chopped it completely)._

_I'm going to the U.S.A. and Canada in twenty-three days (oh, my goodness, twenty-three!) and I'm even going to New York (where this story is set) and so I might throw in some extra little details about the places where I go and I think that I will base Idris (my Idris, sorry Clare) on a beautiful, beautiful place in my home state (undecided as of the moment, but it will be secluded and gorgeous, a gem hidden in the gorgeous crown of Australian landscapes). Not that Clary's going to Idris or anything, though.  
_

_Smexy Jace Wayland loves reviews!_

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Marion :) X_


	22. Chapter TWENTY

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

Jace sighed. "Don't you understand that I –" he broke off, blinking like he couldn't comprehend what he was about to say. "That you're mine now, I don't think it's quite appropriate to talk to other men."

"Right," I said. "We're going to talk about this later, though, Jace."

I was going to tell him that just because we'd made love twice didn't mean that he was my keeper, that I was perfectly capable of looking after myself and that Will was most definitely not interested in me.

**JxC**

**Chapter TWENTY**

_Friday 11__th__ February_

When I woke in the morning my bedroom seemed empty. I rolled onto my side and found a note on the bedside table. In Clary's neat handwriting it read:

_Jace, I've gone down to my apartment to get some clean clothes and to have a shower. I'll see you soon. X_

I smiled to myself and threw back the covers. Apparently I was naked. _Oh, last night. Hmm, making love to Clary might just have been the best feeling in the world. I was beginning to think that waiting had been a good idea. I was a changed man. Well, some of me anyway._

I went and got in the shower, scrubbing all over with Old Spice and washing my hair with one of Mag's shampoos.

That man had got on my nerves last night, messing with Clary like that. I mean it was obvious that she was uncomfortable with him talking about us like that. I would not have minded before Clary, but now I had someone serious in my life . . . things were different.

I slipped on my suit and went out into the kitchen. I patted Alec's butt and smiled at him, "G'morning."

Alec turned to face me straight up. "I'm sorry about Mag last night, he was a bit . . . tipsy."

"A bit. No, really."

Alec looked at me.

"You're making toast. Can you cook me some too?"

"Yeah, sure."

I went and sat in front of the TV, switching it to the morning news. I didn't really watch the TV though, my mind fell back into a similar trail that it had been following since Wednesday night. Clary had let me make love to her – and it had been fucking amazing – and then afterwards, when she'd fallen asleep she murmured with such clarity that I almost thought she was awake, _"Jace, I love you."_

No one outside of the Lightwood family had ever said that they loved me, least of all like that. It excited me and made me absolutely shitscared at the same time.

And then we'd watched _Killers_ and exactly the same thing had happened. The guy in it was saying that he hadn't told the woman that she'd said 'I love you' in her sleep because he wanted to be the one to say it first. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to do that, if I was ready to do that.

Our front door opened and Clary walked in, all smiles. "Hey Alec. How are you?"

Alec smiled. "Well, thank you. Your boyfriend's watching the telly. Do you want some toast?"

"No, thanks. I already ate."

Then she walked over to me, wearing killer heels and one hell of a skirt. Well, I supposed it was less of a skirt than I'd ever seen her in before and damn it was sexy.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Hey."

Her face flushed and I grinned.

"Why don't you sit down?"

"I don't want to ruin my outfit before we even get into the office."

That sentence seemed absolutely full of promises that I was keen to make. "Fine," I told her. I stood and kissed her full on the lips. "Do you want to go in early?"

She smiled. "That sounds great."

**JxC**

"You know," Clary began, twining her fingers through mine on the centre console of the car, "I wanted to ask you something."

I glanced over at her and smirked. I hoped it was something sexy.

"Don't look at me like that. I meant as your employee."

I switched gears. "Go on."

"I was wondering if I could have a holiday. Just a week and a half or so."

I smiled. "A getaway sounds nice."

"No," she said. "Not you and me. Just me."

"Just you?" I asked.

"Yeah, I was going to go away by myself for a while."

_Where?_ I wanted to ask, but I held back because I wasn't the clingy boyfriend who hung onto his girl's every word. In fact, I wasn't usually a boyfriend at all. "I'll see if I can get a temp in to take your place, then we'll talk."

"Jace . . ."

I didn't reply.

She took her hand back and held her own in her lap.

Suddenly I felt cold as ice.

**JxC**

I sat in my office, like always and stared at the double doors. They were still wide, still dark wood, nothing about them had changed in the slightest, but they looked_ different_, though I would never be able to put my finger on why. My phone rang.

I hit the button. "Hello, Mr. Wayland speaking."

"Hey Jace. I heard that you were on the look-out for a temporary PA."

"Will?" I asked. "I've never had a male PA before."

"Don't be a complete ass. I know a girl who's after a job."

"She your girlfriend?"

Will snorted. "Yeah, I wish." Except it sounded like he really did wish that this girl was his girlfriend. I was hardly going to ask him about it, though. Men did not talk about their love lives; they talked about sport – sex is a sport, of course.

"Get her to send me her resumé, all right?"

"On it."

"Catch ya."

"Uh-huh."

I hung up and continued to stare at my doors, willing Clary to walk through. She didn't though.

When lunchtime finally rolled around I walked out of my office, glad to be free of that stupid claustrophobic space.

"Oh, hey, Jace." Clary stood from her desk.

"Ready?"

"Ready?" she repeated with her eyebrows raised. "Oh, right. Lunch. Isabelle invited me, actually."

_It's just Izzy,_ I thought, _I'm your boyfriend and I –_ shit. "Of course. I'll have lunch with Lewis instead."

"Jace," Clary said, just like she had that morning. "You can join us if you like, but we might talk about periods and God knows what else."

"Angel, Clary," I said, shaking my head. "I'll see you after lunch."

I went back into my office to ditch my suit jacket and loosen my tie, when I returned, walking through Clary's small office space to go to the lift: she was already gone.

I did something that I had stopped doing when Aline had become my PA, I went down to the staff cafeteria. I talked to my people, my employees and I smiled at them and I remembered how much I had enjoyed this.

"Mr. Wayland," I heard a sparkly voice say. Yes, sparkly. Guess who.

"Mr. Bane," I replied as he sat in the chair opposite me. "Fancy running into you here."

"Actually, on Fridays I usually go out for lunch with my boyfriend, but he cancelled on me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why did he do that?"

"I dunno, he would not reveal his secret."

My phone vibrated in my pocket. _Clary._ It wasn't.

"Birthday: Magnus Bane," it said.

I said, "It's your birthday?"

"Hush," Magnus said. "I don't need everyone here knowing. As much as I love hair glitter, I don't really need anymore and that is what everyone seems to give me. It's such a pain." He crossed his arms and glanced across at the cafeteria lady who winked at him.

"Happy birthday," I whispered. "How old are you?"

"One thousand two hundred sixty four, how about you?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You're hilarious."

He smiled. "I know."

**JxC**

When I returned to my office after chatting to my colleagues for the best part of an hour Clary was already outside at her desk. "Hi Jace."

I launched straight into it. "When did you want to take a break? How soon?"

"I, ah, um, whenever, I suppose."

"How about February twenty-eight? Through to, say, the eleventh of March."

"It's so soon."

"Well, you wanted a break. I'll need a couple of weeks to get things together, and if you're back by mid-March then we'll still be able to do that photo shoot."

She just kept looking at me, until eventually she said, "Okay."

_Okay,_ I thought. _Okay. What happens while you're away? Are you trying to get away from me? Don't you lo—_oh my Angel—_ve me? Clary? Clary, please._ But like I would ever be able to say any of that, like I would want to. "Good. Mr. Herondale contacted me with the name of a woman who is willing to be my temp, so I'm sure we'll be able to cope with your absence." Even in my own ears, I sounded cold, uncaring. I was. Well, I wanted to be.

"Jace—"

I moved towards my office, one slow step at a time. I didn't turn around. "Could you give William Herondale a ring for me? Ask him to come up, please. I need to talk to him."

"Sure, Jace, but—"

I glanced over my shoulder at her. "Can we talk later, Clary? I have business to do."

"But Jace, this is—"

I opened my office door and walked through, leaving it only a smidgen open.

When we left work late that evening, we barely spoke. Once she fumbled in her heels and swayed, I caught her and she apologised. I was an asshole, leaving it like this, but I couldn't stand it. We got in the car.

"Where are you going to go?" I asked.

She hesitated and I looked at her as I started the car. "I was thinking about Idris, actually."

If I had coffee in my mouth, I would have surely spat it all over the windscreen. "How do you plan on getting there?" We pulled out of the parking garage and I hung a right.

"An aeroplane then a train."

"You need special permission to get into Idris, proof that you're of Nephilim descent."

"I know," she said. "I have been doing my research. I've already contacted Idris and everything."

"Before you had the dates?"

"Yeah. This morning."

"You're a fast worker, huh."

"Isn't that why I work in your office, Mr. Wayland?"

I didn't reply, not until we finally pulled into the garage of the apartment building. "You going to yours or mine?"

She swallowed. "I think I need to catch up on some TV shows I recorded."

"Want company?"

"This isn't a show you'd like."

_No?_ I'd thought. _Try me._ "All right. I'll see you in the morning then. I have a couple more things to do. Bye."

"Right," she said, getting out of the car slowly. "Bye, Jace."

I pulled back out and she yelled out "Wait!"

I stopped, wound down my window. "What's up?"

"I don't want to—We shouldn't leave things like this."

"Like what?" I said.

"Like _this_. You're mad at me, or something."

"Sure," I told her. "You were hiding something from me. I thought that relationships were supposed to be about honesty, Clary. Half the time, you don't even give me that."

She opened her mouth and closed it again. "I—I've told you now."

"And you don't want to take your boyfriend on holiday? I think that's saying something here."

I drove out, leaving her behind in the cold parking garage. By the Angel, what was I doing?

**JxC**

_Sunday February 27__th_

We were out at the Clockwork Princess for dinner again and I now knew that our serving girl was none other than Theresa Gray, who went by Tessa and was Will's friend, the one in fact whose resumé he'd handed to me. I was therefore here for two reasons: one) Clary was leaving tomorrow morning, two) inspection of Miss Gray. She seemed nice, anyway. She'd been our server the last time we came here, I realised belatedly.

"Are you looking forward to your trip?" I asked quietly.

She nodded. I still didn't know why she was going, but I hadn't asked because I wasn't a clingy boyfriend. No matter how much I really wanted to know.

I smiled and so did she. "This wine is simply divine," she purred.

I raised an eyebrow, hoping that was a joke because I really disliked women like that. She broke out in a laugh—yeah, a _laugh_ and not a giggle—and I might have let a chuckle loose too. Tessa came over and we ordered our meals, making small talk.

"I'm just going to pop to the loo," Clary said suddenly, and up she jumped taking her handbag with her.

Miss Gray walked over. "Is she all right?"

"Yes," I said. "You're Tessa Gray, correct?"

She blinked, shaking her caramel hair from her eyes. "Yes, I am."

A hint of a British accent. Cute. No wonder Will wouldn't admit to liking her. "I'm Jace Wayland. A friend of mine gave me your resumé."

"Oh, of course. Mr. Wayland," she smiled.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you in my office tomorrow morning."

Her eyes bugged out. "Tomorrow morning?"

"It's a bit short notice, isn't it? I've been meaning to contact you. I'll need you on staff as my temporary assistant from tomorrow until March eleven. A fortnight exactly. Ten working days. Is that all right with you?"

"Oh, yes. Of course," she replied. "Thank you, Mr. Wayland. I'll be there early. Should we discuss this later? I mean, I have other tables and—" she looked across the room.

"Yes, later is good."

Clary returned a little after that, looking flushed. I tried to ignore it, but sometimes a man can't help but wonder. The only times I'd ever seen her look like _that_ were because of me, making her hot, making her face flush.

"So are you looking forward to it? You didn't answer me before."

She swirled the wine in her glass, hesitating. "Yeah, but . . ."

"But?" I said, finishing off the last of my glass.

"Well it's going to be an adventure and I'm going to meet people who, a few weeks ago, I didn't even know existed, maybe see magical creatures." At this last comment, she smirked: it was a joke. "I know. They don't exist. But I was researching that thing that Father was involved in – um, Shadowsearchers?"

"Shadowhunters," I corrected quietly.

"Right. That whole thing seems so silly – demons and vampires, werewolves, fairies. But that's all it is: old fairy stories."

"You're right there."

She looked up, meeting my eyes as Tessa brought our food over.

"Tessa," I said, "could I get another glass of wine?"

"Of course, sir. I'll be right back."

Clary raised an eyebrow, shaking her siren red hair from her eyes. "I thought you were only having one glass, so you'd be good to drive."

"What difference does one more make?"

"Well, you said—"

"No matter what I said," I interrupted.

**JxC**

When we arrived back at the apartment building, Clary took off her heels. I patted her head. "You're so small."

She swiped at me, and then kicked me in the shin.

"Ow!" I said, pretending to jump around, holding my leg. Clary looked concerned for a moment. "Just joshing, Clary."

We managed to make it up to her apartment in one piece. It took her a few twists to get the door open, like she was nervous.

"Do you want me to drive you to the airport tomorrow morning?"

"I was going to get a cab, but yeah. I'd like that."

Once we were inside, I kissed her softly, wrapping my arms around her, holding her close to my skin. She pulled back and I pressed my lips to her neck, her cheek, her collarbones. "Jace, I—not tonight."

"Right," I said. _No, let's not make love the night before you go away. Let's not make love on the last night I'll get to be in your presence for a week. Let's not—let our minds get away from us._

"I'm sorry, Jace."

"No, it's fine," I smiled. "You're right. Let's go to sleep."

**JxC**

_Monday February__ 28th_**  
**

The morning passed a lot faster than I wanted it to. We got up, shared her tight shower, tucked into Nutella on toast for breakfast, made sure that she had everything organised for her carry-on and the insanity of the strictness. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved white t-shirt underneath a trench coat. I was wearing a suit, though minus the jacket, and I'd left the tie hanging on her door handle. Before it had even occurred to me, we were at Newark airport, and I was with her, checking in to her flight to Berlin. We went to get coffee from a nearby Starbucks and we sat down. I stared out the window, looking at the planes on the tarmac. I needed to get away from this sometime soon . . .

She looked up at the clock after a while. "I should get going. But there's one thing. Jace?"

"Uh-huh. What's up, Clary?"

"I'm sorry."

I cocked my head, put down my coffee, got my serious face on. "What for?"

"I can't do this anymore. It's killing me, Jace."

"'This'?" I asked. "As in, us?"

"Yes," she replied. "Us, I mean, I— I, I—" _Say it,_ I thought. _Just say it._ "I really like you, but I need to be alone. I need some time."

_So you'd be willing to consider _us_ when you got back? Because right now, I feel like I _need_ us._

"Right," I said.

"Jace—"

"Whatever," I told her, like I didn't care, like I didn't want her to _love_ me. "Just go. There's always more fish in the pond."

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI **_**or **_**ID**_**, but Cassie Clare does**_**.**_** Go figure.**

_Don't kill me for this chapter. Please. And excuse any grammatical errors. I was more worried about getting this up the minute I'd finished than checking over it._

_Reviews are appreciated (even if you're annoyed at me today)._

_Love you all dearly,_

_~Marion :) x_

_A special note for the anon who called herself 'Sigh':_

_Honestly, I'm sorry that I've disappointed you and I totally get what you mean. I had planned on writing a proper sex scene, but when it came to the crunch, I just couldn't do it. Maybe it's because all of my (absolute lack of) sexual experience comes from M-rated stories on FF/FP and from Mills & Boon novels. On that note, would you care to explain what UST means? Because I just don't know._


	23. Chapter TWENTYONE

_Oh, my goodness. What a fast update, right! (Don't go getting your hopes up, though.)_

* * *

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

"Yes," she replied. "Us, I mean, I— I, I—" _Say it,_ I thought. _Just say it._ "I really like you, but I need to be alone. I need some time."

_ So you'd be willing to consider _us_ when you got back? Because right now, I feel like I _need_ us._ "Right," I said.

"Jace—"

"Whatever," I told her, like I didn't care, like I didn't want her to _love_ me. "Just go. There's always more fish in the pond."

**JxC**

**Chapter TWENTY-ONE**

_Monday February 28th_

I left Jace looking stoic as ever behind as I wound my way through the security check in, slipped off my shoes and put them with my bag through the machine. I got them back and went to settle at the gate my plane had been assigned. I sat on a row of chairs that held no other people and waited and waited.

My plane was delayed by five hours, which meant that I was stranded in an airport alone, for five hours. Five long, boring hours.

And I could hardly call Jace to keep me company.

Mind you, I was about two and a half hours in when my phone rang and I was so happy for any kind of distraction that I could get that I didn't even check caller ID.

"Hello, this is Clary Fairchild speaking."

"Clary? What on Earth are you doing? I mean, well, it's fair enough that you're going to Idris but then you dump Jace! Talk about out of the blue! You didn't even tell me and—"

"I didn't tell you because you might've told him or Alec who definitely would have told him and that's not fair."

"You've been planning it! Oh, my Angel!"

"Isabelle," I said slowly, "look. I'm stuck in the airport."

"I was wondering why you'd answered, actually. I expected you'd be on the plane to Berlin by now."

"No, the plane's been delayed by, uh, five hours . . . or so."

"Well, shit. And you can't call Jace because _you dumped him!_"

"I hadn't noticed!" I near-yelled and a woman sitting opposite glared at me. I glared right back at her, because this was New York City. I took in a deep breath. "Look, Izzy. Now is just not a good time."

"It might have been a good time, if you'd let Jace make love to you last night."

"You're joking, right? I can't believe you're going to lecture me about my love life over the phone."

The woman, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, shot me another look. I resisted the urge to poke my tongue out at her.

"You know that Jace is a total catch, right? I mean, I cannot think of a better man. If he wasn't practically my brother, I would so be having sex with him right now."

"You know what," I said, eager to take the attention off of my love life and how lacking it currently was, "how about Simon, hmm? How is everything going on that front?"

"Oh." I could just hear the smile in her voice, it sounded like she was positively glowing, and at a time when I wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it to hide from life, well, I wanted to punch her in the face. "It's going just swell."

"As if anyone actually says 'swell'," I said, unable to keep the smile off of my face. "Is that how happy you are?"

"Yeah," she said, letting loose a happy breath. "It is. He's just wonderful, in a cute nerdy kind of way."

_Oh, dear._ I leaned forward, letting my hair fall around my face as I pressed my mobile phone to my ear to listen to Isabelle babble happily about Simon. I thought about Maia as she did so, wondering how she was. I also thought about asking Isabelle to ask Simon to call me, but I figured that the idea of it might ruin her mood and I wasn't willing to do that while she was so happy.

"Hey, Isabelle? I think I have to go now, there's this thing and—oh." Biggest lie ever. The only thing going on was that the blonde with her hair pulled back too tight had gotten up to buy a zero calorie Vitamin Water and was now sipping on it slowly, as if the smaller mouthful you took, the less calories you took into your body. "Yeah, really have to go. Bye-bye."

"Oh! Goodbye, Clary! And I hope you work that shit out!"

"Uh-huh."

"Boyfriend troubles," the blonde woman said.

"No boyfriend," I replied.

"Oh, well that is trouble."

"It's really not," I told her, eyeing a little pizza shop across the way. I stood up and went to get myself a slice of pepperoni pizza, because my stomach was going to rumble embarrassingly loudly if I didn't put something inside of it.

I didn't need a man in my life, I was perfectly capable of looking after myself. I ate my slice of pizza slowly, waiting for the flight, wanting to savour the taste as well. I realised then that I was going to have to call Idris ahead, to tell them that I wouldn't be arriving on time, though maybe they already knew.

I whipped out my phone and sent a quick text message to a number that they had given me in case of emergencies. They had replied within moments: _We will have a car waiting for you in Berlin. There will be a woman there, holding up a sign with your name on it. Her name is Amatis Herondale. We look forward to seeing you, Daughter of Valentine and Jocelyn._

I was glad that had been cleared up.

Eventually I boarded the plane and settled into my economy seat. How was it that my luck had landed me in neither the window nor the aisle seat?

_Karma_, Isabelle said inside of my head, _you deserve it._

**JxC**

_There are always more fish in the pond,_ he whispered, glancing up at me for a moment, as if he had heard a noise, he did not _see_ me, though. I must be invisible, I realised a moment too late. A gasp came from beneath him, a noise that was not his own. I could hear whispers outside of the door and I knew that they belonged to a tall man with black, sparkly hair and a shorter man with dark hair also. _He got over her a lot faster than I was expecting._

_ Yeah,_ said the other, _I thought he might have been— I thought he was changing, that he had changed. I guess I was wrong. I thought that redhead would have been good for him._

The sparkly-haired man sighed and they walked away from the door so that I could not hear their whispered voices, their secrets untold.

"Excuse me," he said, looking directly at me. "You're disturbing the other passengers, Miss."

I blinked, trying to understand what the blonde man was saying. It didn't make sense. I couldn't comprehend it.

"Miss, wake up." A hand touched my shoulder and I jerked from my dream, eyes slamming open.

My breathing was uneven and unsteady. I wasn't getting enough air into my lungs, I couldn't. I couldn't.

"You're okay. Aeroplanes are completely safe. You're more likely to die from a bee sting than in an aeroplane crash."

Finally I looked at the man on my left, sitting in the window seat. "Sorry?"

He blushed, embarrassed but I stared at him: average-looking, auburn hair, green eyes, freckles and a suit. A complete stranger.

"I'm not worried about the airplane," I told him. "I was just— It was a bad dream, that's all." He opened his mouth. "And I don't want to talk about it," I added quickly, before he could ask.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted a cup of water, actually. I'm friends with our host."

"Oh," I said, my cheeks reddening. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "'S'all right."

He hit the button on the arm of his chair and a half minute later a airhost walked along, holding onto the back of the aisle guy's seat as the plane hit a jolt of turbulence. I clung to the arms of my chair.

"Are you all right, madam?" the airhost asked me, but I couldn't reply.

"Yes," said window man. "Two cups of water, please, Harry."

The host disappeared with a nod and window man turned to me again. "Sure you like aeroplanes?"

"Yes, I don't mind them, but as if this doesn't freak you out at least a little bit."

He shrugged again. Damn the shrug. "I know the science behind turbulence, so I'm going to say that it doesn't freak me out in the least."

We hit another particularly rough patch and aisle man's water splashed onto his tray table. I gripped the arms harder, pressing my feet into the floor.

"It'll be over soon," said window man. "I was watching the forecast before we flew. This patch is why our flight was delayed in the first place."

"Great," I said as the host – Harry – returned.

"Here you go," he said, shaking his blonde hair out of his blue eyes. All-American, I thought.

Window man took our cups from Harry and I murmured my thanks.

"He's an old friend," said window man. "I knew him in high school, back in Sydney."

"Sydney," I said, "that's in . . . New Zealand, right?"

Window man laughed at me. Asshole. "Australia, actually. Harry always had all the women, total typical Aussie surfer type. Messy blonde hair, sea blue eyes. He's an attractive man."

I eyed window man carefully. "You liked him."

He shrugged again. Far out! "Yeah, it was a long time ago though. We're friends now, it's great. Want your water?"

"Yeah," I said, realising the air had smoothed out . . . or something. "Can you open the window too?" He passed my water to me and opened the blind. It was dark outside already. Crazy. "What time is it?"

"Like eight p.m. New York time, so it's like two in the morning in Berlin."

"Wow."

"You don't fly much, do you?"

"No," I said defensively. Mum had never had the money, and to be honest, Luke didn't make all that much from his bookshop or Chinese joint.

"Fair enough, I guess. I fly a lot, actually."

"Do I want to ask why?"

"I'm a flight attendant, a host. My next shift leaves from Berlin, though, so I've got to fly there. It's a pain when they do that . . ."

"Uh-huh." I'd finished my cup of water, and stupidly, my body decided that it needed to, well, _go_. Aisle man was asleep. I glanced at window man and undid my seatbelt, got up and climbed over aisle man's legs – which was quite a task, considering the aisle woman in front of him had her chair pushed back as far as it would go.

**JxC**

_Tuesday February 29th_

I managed to collect my small suitcase from the baggage carousel without too much trouble, as most of the signs were in English as well as German. I had tied a bright blue ribbon around the handle of my suitcase, to make it more easily recognisable and it worked. Go me!

I wasn't sure where exactly I was supposed to find "Amatis" but I guessed that she would be hanging around the arrivals area, so there I headed. With my suitcase in tow, and an offer to share a taxi from a short, dark-haired bloke – which I refused, obviously – I made it and immediately spotted "Amatis".

It turned out that she was a woman, tall and curvy with dark wavy hair. She was also holding a card that said my name, which was the main giveaway.

I walked up to her and I smiled. "Hi, I'm Clary Fairchild."

"Amatis Herondale. I've heard a lot about you." Herondale, like Will?

My eyes widened. "You have? From who?"

She tapped her nose and chucked the card with my name on it in a nearby bin. "I have my sources." Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I didn't get it.

She led me to a fancy-pants car, a Mercedes-Benz, silver. I don't know what type it was, but that's okay, right? After we put my bag in the boot, she went and got in the drivers' side and I hopped into the passenger side, settling into the warm seat.

I did not like the warm seat.

"It's heated," Amatis said, as if she could read my mind.

It was an odd idea, a heated car seat. It made me want to cringe, the thought that someone else's body heat had warmed the seat. Maybe it would be different if it was Jace's – _no, bad brain._

She pulled out into the traffic and turned up the volume on some German radio station until we were out of Berlin and well into the countryside did she break the silence.

"How's my brother?" she asked, glancing at me.

"I'm sorry," I said, "your brother?"

"Asshole," she muttered, sounding surprisingly American. "Lucian Graymark," she said finally.

"Um, I don't know any –"

She slammed her hands down on the steering wheel. "I can't believe that he never told you about me, that he has a _sister_. I thought we'd gotten over that bridge. Obviously not."

"Um, Amatis?" I said quietly as her driving got more reckless.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Lucian, my brother, he's married to your mum, isn't he?"

"Luke?"

"Is that what he's going by now?"

I felt very awkward. The guy who was practically my father, who shared my life, had not told me that he had a sister.

"I suggested to the Clave that I might pick you up from the airport because you're my niece, and they agreed, of course. But you don't even know who I am!"

"Do you think my mum knows that he's Lucian Graymark and not Luke Garroway?"

Amatis looked at me again. "You hungry?"

"No," I told her. "But I do need to pee."

"Cool, because we're going to stop in at the next town."

I just loved how she hadn't answered my question – what if this _Lucian_ had been lying to my mum after all this time? I'd kick his ass. Then again, why was I trusting a woman who I'd known for barely two hours over the man who'd been my father figure since I was three?

**JxC**

The little town that we stopped in at was absolutely adorable, the only downside was that none of the signs were in English and, well – big surprise – I didn't speak German.

Amatis, though, apparently knew enough to buy herself a slice of black forest cake and two coffees. She pointed me to the loos, which were in the back of the café and told me that she wasn't going to leave without me.

"So, Luke's your brother," I said when I returned, taking my coffee and seat.

"Yep," she said, sounding a little bitter.

"When, uh, was the last time you saw him?"

She shoved a huge spoonful of cake into her mouth and swallowed it all before speaking. "Around five years ago, I think. I meet him here, in Germany. I didn't want to go to New York and, well, Lucian and the Clave are not on good terms at the moment."

"Really? Wow."

"He talked about you a lot," she said, her voice sounding warmer. "He thinks a lot of you, says you're going to be a good businesswoman one day."

I smiled at this. My dreams of being an artist had disappeared when I graduated from high school and discovered business management in college. I had started up on the sketching again, though, when Mum sent my pencils through finally.

I'd brought some coloured pencils with me especially for this trip, in case I got bored, then I could just sit down and draw whatever was around me.

"He is also very much in love with your mother."

"I know," I said. Theirs was the kind of love that I was aspiring to one day have – if one could aspire to such things. "He's a good father figure," I added.

Amatis looked out the window, smiling to herself. I sipped on my coffee and eyed her cake. Maybe I was hungry …

"Hey, do you reckon I could get a slice of cake too?"

She looked over at me. "I knew you'd be hungry."

We left the café and town not long after I'd finished my slice of cake and were back on the road again. It was going to take another three and a half hours to get to the Idris border, Amatis told me, then we would have to ditch the car and walk into the city.

"Are you looking forward to meeting up with your brother and father?" Amatis asked after a couple of hours.

If I had had coffee in my mouth, I would have surely spat it all over the windscreen. "What?"

"You're meeting with Jonathon and Valentine Morgenstern in the city, aren't you? The Clave told me that you were staying with them, but they couldn't come to pick you up. That was why I offered."

I blanched. "I'm spending a week with my brother and father, in Idris?" _Dammit! This was supposed to be a holiday!_

Amatis didn't say anything further until we reached the city and neither did I, silently grumbling away in my head, suddenly in an awful mood.

I would have pulled my phone to text Jace, but one) I was in Europe, two) I wasn't supposed to be leaning on him, since I'd _dumped_ him, or three) because Izzy would whip my sorry ass if I did.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**TMI.**_** Go figure. Only Cassie Clare and Walker Books have that pleasure.**

_And she's back (and talking about herself in first person – because she's _that_ cool). I can tell you, after my travels to the States, that I know understand how you people buy _a_ slice of pizza. In Australia, you can't eat _a_ slice of pizza, because it would never fill you up. Even I (a person with a small stomach at times) usually eat two or three slices. In New York City, we got a pizza, and I had trouble finishing the second slice. How you people make pizza (with so little topping!) so filling, I don't know. It's incredible._

Australian words:

_Boot: what Americans call a "trunk" – the storage space in the back of a car._

_Reviews are appreciated!_

_Love you all dearly._

_Yes, I've changed my username again. I don't care what you call me – well, unless it's something rude, then I might care. I prefer the anonymity of this name. It works for me, so it's going to have to work for you too._

_Re:_ "I really like your story, _**but**_ **Im** beginning to become offended by the comments you make about American words. We say gas and we spell pajamas with an a and not a y. If you feel this is wrong, take it up with our dictionary."

_Dear Anon, I am glad that you like my story, however, if you have a problem with my grammar and spelling, take it up with a proper English dictionary and not an American one. You'll soon see that "pyjamas" is spelt with a 'y' and "gas" is actually petrol, whereas gas is an air-like substance. Alternatively, you can put up with it or stop reading. Thanks. (Don't flame me – I'm just standing up for myself.)_

_Re: _Eliza_ – Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. "Knickers" are underwear, undies, or panties. "Don't get your knickers in a knot" or "What's got your knickers in a knot?" basically mean, "What's all up in your grill?" or "What's got you in such a bad mood?" I hope that helps._


	24. A LETTER OF APOLOGY

A LETTER OF APOLOGY

To my most beloved readers,

I can only offer my sincerest of apologies when I tell you that I don't believe that I will be finishing this story anytime soon, if at all. I have numerous excuses (school, life, a lack of interest in TMI in general thanks to CoFA, my new job), but they don't really mean anything so I won't bother you with the boring details. It is also partly due to the fact that FanFiction no longer sends me emails, and therefore I am not seeing your wonderful encouragement in my inbox.

If you're interested in reading more of what I have written (though I doubt you are, because I'm such a terrible updater), then you should check out my FictionPress account (it's the same name).

My thanks go out to you, for loving my story, and loving my characters, for feeling what they felt, and for putting up with my irregular updates.

I have nothing more to say, no words can express my appreciation of every single review I have received during the time I have written this story.

Let's just say that _At Your Assistance _is on a permanent hiatus.

All my love,

Anita xoxo

P.S. I am going to take away the last chapter I posted, and rewrite the end of Chapter TWENTY, eventually, so that _AYA_ will see to it that Clary and Jace do get their happily ever after.


	25. Chapter TWENTY TWO

_**Previously on At Your Assistance**_

I blanched. "I'm spending a week with my brother and father, in Idris?" _Dammit! This was supposed to be a holiday!_

Amatis didn't say anything further until we reached the city and neither did I, silently grumbling away in my head, suddenly in an awful mood.

I would have pulled my phone to text Jace, but one) I was in Europe, two) I wasn't supposed to be leaning on him, since I'd _dumped_ him, or three) because Izzy would whip my sorry ass if I did.

**JxC**

**Chapter TWENTY-TWO**

_Date unknown, early March_

When I arrived back in New York, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I'd learnt so much, even though I now hated my brother and father more than ever, at least I could appreciate their craziness for what it was. Valentine, Jonathon and Sebastian deserved to be locked up in a mental asylum, I thought, since they were pretty much insane – that whole demons, werewolves, vampires thing was a little out of hand.

Simon was going to pick me up from the airport, which was awesome because I hadn't seen him in what felt like forever, even though it'd only been a week. I got my bag from the carousel and waited outside, where Simon had told me to meet him, smiling at the way my breath fogged in the air.

A car pulled up in front of me, and the door opened, I watched out of the corner of my eyes as a messy blonde head got out of the car –

"_Ja—_"

He bounded straight into me, throwing his arms around my waist, picking me up. I felt my cheeks turn bright red.

"Oh, Clary," he said, finally setting me back on the ground. "You have no idea how much I missed you!"

For a moment, I just stared at him. I'd broken up with him. What right did he have to hijack my ride home and _hug_ me like that? I'd never admit it to him, or anyone, but I was glad to see him, happier than I'd ever been. "Where's Simon?"

He looked a little stunned, and I liked it. "I – I asked him if I could pick you up instead. He said he had some geeky stuff to do at the office, so …"

I sighed, and lugged my suitcase over to the shiny black car. "You gonna open the boot, or what, Wayland?"

**JxC**

_Sunday April 1_

I rolled over, groaning. At least it was a Sunday, and therefore no one could make me get up all that early. Then my phone vibrated on my bedside table, and I answered it.

"Whaddayawant?"

Jace said, "Clary! I need you to come upstairs, quick! I think I just – I don't even know what's happened, but it smells like something's burning, and – _SIMON_, get away from the ledge!"

My phone promptly clattered to the floor, and I ran out into the corridor in my pyjamas, and into the lift, pressing the button violently.

I was not going to let Simon fall to his death, or anything close to that. No matter how hammered he was. And I was not going to let this building burn down! It was the closest thing that I had ever had to a home that wasn't my mother's house.

I slammed my fist against Jace and Alec's door, a little too hard, I realised as my knuckles seared in a painful protest.

Jace opened the door, happy as Larry.

"Jace, I –"

He smirked, then, "APRIL FOOL'S!" and he cracked up. I pulled my fist back and smashed it against his jaw bone. He actually fell to the ground, which I thought was quite impressive. Or it would've been if he weren't still laughing.

"Where's Simon?"

"He's not even here," Alec said, walking into the room, bleary-eyed. "God, Jace, did you make enough noise? How old are you? Do you want a coffee, Clary?"

"Please," I said, closing the door behind me. I gave Jace a half-hearted kick in the side and joined Alec in the kitchen, even as Jace continued to snicker away.

It felt like forever before he'd finally calmed down enough to talk normally.

"But really," Jace said, "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's that?" I asked, sipping on my black coffee.

Alec had gone back to his bedroom to entertain Magnus, who was still sleeping – I could tell by his snores.

Jace stole my cup of coffee and had a sip of it, only to spit it back in the cup. I shot him a look, and he shrugged. "It's not like you haven't shared saliva with me before, Clary."

He passed me my mug and I set it down. I was hardly going to drink it now, no matter what he said. I wasn't really the nervous type, but Jace had been acting differently at work lately. And by that, I don't mean different as in post-break-up awkward, I mean, it was different from that kind of awkward. He was talking to me more, but distantly still, little things like "How are you?" or "Is the workload not too bad?" that made me think he still cared.

To be honest, I hoped to high heaven that he still cared, because I didn't think that I could be _just friends_ with Jace Wayland.

"Look," he said, touching my knee, bringing my mind back into focus. "I want you to know that I'm here for you, all right?"

_Is that all?_

"What I mean is that if you're still interested in me, Clary, then I would very much love to begin our relationship again, even if we have to start all over."

I refrained from throwing myself at him. "Aw, I don't know, Jace … I mean, I met this really great guy in Idris – a total spunk."

_Oh, God, his _face!

I grinned. "April Fool's, Jace."

His cheeks turned bright red, and I kept on smiling. He still hadn't reacted after a moment, so I hopped down off where I was sitting on the kitchen counter and put my arms around his waist.

"Jace?"

He leaned over, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "Don't say stuff like that, okay? I love you too much to deal with that kind of shit." He put his arms around me, holding me close, tight.

I thought, for a moment, that the world stopped spinning, and suddenly my centre of gravity shifted. "Jace, I –"

"Oh, Angel, I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"_Jace …_"

"You don't have to say it back," he said, pulling back slightly to look into my eyes. "I mean I kind of sprung it on you, and I mean it, I really do, but I don't want to force you into saying anything you don't mean. Or doing anything you don't want to. Hell, there's something wrong with me. I'm going mental."

I stretch up and give him a quick kiss. "I'm not ready, Jace, to tell you that I love you, or to be in a relationship with you, not yet, not with all of the stuff that went on earlier this year, but think of this as a promise of what's to come." I stepped forward, so that he would step back, and I used all of my 5'2" to press his 6'2" frame against the cupboards, and I pulled his head down so that I could kiss him properly, and thoroughly.

**JxC**

I borrowed Jace's shower, and washed my carrot-coloured hair with his shampoo. Biting my lip, I can't help but remember the showers we shared before I cut it all off barely a month ago. When I'm done in the shower, Jace makes pikelets, and I smile at him. "You've been practicing."

I put on a pair of his tracky-dacks and my pyjama top when I got out of the shower, and he just stared at me before shaking his head to himself. I allowed myself a smile, and wondered what I could do today.

Then as Jace serves up a plate of pikelets, I have the best idea ever.

**JxC**

I returned home around mid-afternoon. It took me a while to find a hairdressers that was open on a Sunday, but then it's Manhattan, so there was bound to be at least one open.

Jace was in my apartment, and the second I stepped inside the door he was on his feet. "What did you do to your hair?"

I touched my head, running my fingers through my hair. "I'm starting afresh," I told him.

"_Oh_," he smiled.

"I'd like to start afresh with you," I added.

Jace's smile turned into a grin, and he kissed my forehead.

"That, Jace, was the shittest kiss I've ever gotten from you."

"Ready for the best one?" he asked, taking my lips with his.

**JxC**

_Date unknown, June_

I woke early, for once in my life, to sunlight streaming through open doors, a warm breeze wafting through open doors. It was about three months after Jace and I had agreed to start over again, and we were on holiday in Australia, up on the gold coast, staying at a resort in a small cabin that was separated from everyone else. It was perfect. For the last three mornings, I had awoken in Jace's arms, and smiled to myself, letting myself forget what day it was, and falling back into a gentle slumber, until Jace woke me to tell me of our activities for the day.

This morning, though, I was going to protest. There would be no daily activities that involved leaving a 100-metre radius of our home for the fortnight.

I slipped out of his arms, and out of my pyjamas – which were minimal anyway. I rolled him onto his back, and laid along the length of his body, waiting for him to wake up.

"Clary, what are you doing?"

I opened my eyes, blinking. _Did I fall asleep?_

"I don't want to leave the house," I told him. "I just want to stay here, and rest, maybe go for a swim in the water out there."

"I'll come for a swim," he said, "but only if you're naked."

"Race you."

**JxC**

"ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD," I yelled into the phone. "Calm the bloody hell down, will you? And then repeat."

"SIMON," she yelled.

"I can hear you when you're not trying to yell all the way to Australia, Is."

"Simon – he proposed, Clary."

"OH MY GOD," I squealed. "Tell me everything!"

Izzy told me about how Simon took her for a bike ride in Central Park, and they were sitting by the fountain when he got down on one knee and popped a small red velvet box out of his pocket, that he said he was sorry it wasn't from Tiffany's or Cartier's or anything like that, but it was a family heirloom, and would Isabelle like to make him the happiest geek alive.

Finally, I hung up on Isabelle, and Jace walked into the little house from the beach, putting his arms around me.

"Can we please just stay here forever?" I asked him.

"What do you think about children?" he asked in response.

"Well, that was a little random," I replied.

"I'm curious," he said, "I've never asked you before."

"Probably because you were so focussed on sex," I joked. Jace didn't look amused. "I don't know. I guess I'd always assumed that I would have kids but I've never really thought about what that would actually entail in the long run, you know? And childbirth is supposed to be _really_ painful."

"I've heard that," Jace said.

"Why do you ask?"

"It was just the dream that I had last night …" he said, sounding almost reminiscent, quite pleased with the memory. "We were, like, old, and we had three kids, and they were all carrot-tops like you. And they were so adorable, and it was – wonderful. I was so happy."

"Jace."

"Yep."

"I am not promising to give you children, not right now."

He smiles, pulling me to his chest.

"And one more thing."

"Yeah, Clary?"

"Our children will _not_ be redheads."

My phone vibrated. "Clary, you swore you would turn your phone off."

"But it's Magnus," I say, picking it up. "Hey sweetie."

"Hey doll," Magnus replied. "How's the trip?"

I smirked at Jace. "You have no idea, Mag."

"Alec says he's glad you're enjoying it."

"Tell him thanks. It's the best early-slash-belated birthday gift I've ever gotten."

Magnus said, "So I'm excited for our present."

"Why's that?"

"Didn't you get my e-mail? God, Clary. Get your shit together. Check your e-mail and get back to me."

He hung up on me! "I love you too," I muttered.

"What's he want?"

"I'm supposed to check my e-mail."

"No way!" says Jace, grabbing my phone and chucking it at the pillows on our bed. "We are not playing catch-up New York. We are supposed to be escaping."

I sighed, defeated all too easily. I kissed him. "Come on, then." I grinned. "Let's go skinny dipping."

Jace had his clothes off in seconds. I rolled my eyes. I followed suit, though, and raced him into the water again, which was still warm, even though it was dark out. We splashed and played in the warm sea water until our fingers turned pruny, then we shared a shower and went to sleep in each other's arms.

**JxC**

Of course, our little holiday away ended all too soon, and we had to head back to New York City for business reasons. I never did end up modelling that campaign for the fragrance that was released this week, which ended up being called something so corny I'm not even going to repeat it, but it sold so incredibly well that it rivalled Wayland's top-seller from the day it was out.

I walked out of Jace's bedroom to make myself a cup of coffee – it was nearing seven a.m., and we had work today – and Alec was standing in the kitchen, looking quite dreamy.

"Good morning," I ground out. "What's up?"

Alec bit his lip, and it was so cute. "Magnus just asked me if I'd like to marry him." I couldn't keep the delight off of my face.

"What did you say?"

Alec frowned slightly. "I said I'd have to think about it. I mean, it's a huge commitment, right?"

I nodded. "How long have you and Magnus been going out, now, though?"

"Since I was eighteen," he said, "so, like almost nine years or something."

I smiled. "If that's not commitment, Alec, I don't know what is. And this is New York. If my opinion counts for anything, I say go for it. I am a huge Malec shipper."

That last bit made Alec turn red, but he smiled, then engulfed me in a hug. "Thanks, Clary." Then he left the room with his mug, and I poured myself a cup of coffee.

I saw Jace walk into the living room, and I poured him a cup of coffee too, just the way he liked it.

"Hey, babe," he said.

I couldn't even bring myself to tell him how much I hated it when he called me 'babe', or maybe I was just getting over it. I didn't care.

"Do we have to go to work?" I asked.

"As CEO," he announced, "I would love to be able to take a day off for no reason, but since we had a two-week holiday, and I don't think I'm allowed all that many days off for the rest of the year. And that means you too. I suppose we could have a lazy day. It is casual Friday."

"Can I wear trackpants?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "Not quite that casual."

"In Australia, people wore their pyjamas to the supermarket, Jace, and ugg boots. I'm so jealous of how laid-back they are in comparison to New York."

Jace pulled me against him and gave me a thorough kissing. "I love you."

I wasn't really sure when I'd gotten to the point when I could say those three words back to him, but it was sometime after we'd returned from Australia, where I'd realised that life was short, and that life in New York City was always moving so quickly. Heck, Simon and Isabelle were getting married – I was just glad he'd sorted out that shit with Maia – and Magnus had proposed to Alec. It was all too perfect, like in the end of _Breaking Dawn_, where Stephenie Meyer tried to fit everything in together. It didn't seem at all likely, but it had happened.

It was entirely possible that Jace and I would be next. Mum had professed her love for us as a couple, despite how annoying he could be. She said I had to promise not to have red-headed children, though, because they would hate us forever for being rangas.

"I love you," I told him. "Now pass me my coffee." He shot me a look. "Jacey-Wacey."

"Oh, for the love of the Angel, Clary!" but much to my pleasure he passed me my coffee with a smile on his face.

We sat down on the couch to watch _The Today Show_, and I curled up against Jace, glad that almost everything finally seemed to be turning in my direction.

**FIN**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own _TMI._ Go figure.**

_To be honest, I don't really know what to say to you guys but thanks. To every review, every favourite, every chapter of this fiction that you ever read. I know I've been an awful fanfiction writer, having taken pretty much a year off to finish this story. Despite it all, all of my excuses, this story is finally finished. There may be some strings that I have left untied, but I'm going to leave it up to you to close those off in your own mind. I hope you've enjoyed reading this, and seeing my versions of Clare's characters develop, as much as I have. I will hold you all in my hearts for a long time to come. I have certainly received some wonderful reviews in my time on this website, some very inspiring reviews, indeed. One of my first reviewers, Taylor Jade, has told me that I have a "true talent" which she says, in other words, is enviable, and you have no idea how much that means to me. You're all very beautiful people, and I appreciate every single one of you._

_All my love and best wishes for the future,_

_Anita x :~) _


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